HEART?/ 

WOMAN 


HARRY  W.  DESMOND 


i 

o 


HEART  o/  WOMAN 


The   LoVe   Story   of 
CATRINA    RUTHERFORD 

Contained   in    Writings   of 
ALE,XANDE,R    ADAMS 

Transmitted   to 

HARRY   W.   DESMOND 


N  E,  W      Y  O  Be  K 

J.    F.    TAYLOR    &    COMPANY 
M  C  M  I  I 


COPYRIGHT   1902,    BY 
J.    F.    TAYLOR    &    CO. 


Published  June,  zqoz 


To  My  Friend 
FRANCIS     AMES 


CONTENTS 

HAPTER  PAGE 

I.  ALEX  ADAMS'S  MEMENTOES i 

II.  THE  ORCHARD  AT  HEATHCOTE  HOUSE     .  5 

III.  ISAAC  SCOTT  MAKES  HIS  APPEARANCE       .  13 

IV.  THE  DAWN  OF  SUSPICION 24 

V.  A  TORY  IN  RETREAT 31 

VI.  THE  FIRST  INTERVIEW  ON  THE  "ASIA"     .  39 

VII.  THE  SECOND  INTERVIEW  ON  THE  "ASIA"  51 

VIII.  THE  JOURNEY  TO  THE  MANSE     ....  56 

IX.  THE  MANSE  AND  ITS  INMATES      ....  74 

X.  THE  PRELUDE  IN  THE  WOODS    ....  92 
XI.  THE  DELIVERY  OF  THE  LETTER  .    .    .    .  101 

XII.  THE  FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  FLIGHT   .    .    .  112 

XIII.  HELEN  "JOINS  THE  PARTY 127 

XIV.  SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE  THEIR  LEAVE  .  134 
XV.  THE  CROWN  POINT  FORT 157 

XVI.  RALPH  FORSWEARS  THE  PAST  ....  163 

XVII.  THE  BEGINNING  OF  DOUBT 173 

XVIII.  THE  POWER  OF  AN  AFFINITY  ..,..180 

XIX.  THE  MEETING  OF  THE  CROSS  CURRENTS  193 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XX.  COMING  TO  CLOSE  QUARTERS   ....  201 

XXI.  Miss  RUTHERFORD'S  MESSENGER     ...  221 

XXII.  CATRINA'S  COMMAND 231 

XXIII.  BURNING  THE  BRIDGES 237 

XXIV.  THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  FATE     ....  249 
XXV.  CATRINA'S  MESSENGER  PAID 264 

XXVI.  IN  THE  ENEMY'S  HANDS 276 

XXVII.  CATRINA  PAYS  THE  RANSOM    .....  293 

XXVIII.  WHERE  THE  HEART  Is  THERE  WILL  OUR 

THOUGHTS  BE  ALSO 309 


THE    HEART   OF    WOMAN 


THE   HEART   OF  WOMAN 

CHAPTER  I. 
ALEX.  ADAMS'S  MEMENTOES. 

YESTERDAY,  Sunday,  the  rain  fell  steadily,  veiling  the 
harbor  beyond  my  windows  in  gray  mist  that  obscured 
the  distant  Staten  Island  hills. 

It  was  a  soft,  wet  day,  when  the  air  strangely  carries 
any  sound  given  to  it,  and  in  like  manner,  perhaps  in 
sympathy,  the  mind  prolongs  its  slightest  reminiscence. 

I  had  little  inclination  to  church,  so  stayed  at  home 
overhauling  my  papers.  They  wece  of  divers  sort — 
old  accounts,  letters,  memoranda — indifferent  docu- 
ments of  even  no  private  value  that  a  man  of  small 
affairs  preserved  for  forgotten  reasons. 

These  neglected  papers  were  of  the  very  mood  of 
the  moment.  As  I  went  over  them,  one  by  one,  I 
could  not  escape  the  thought  how  much  our  recent 
success  in  arms  has  cost  us  at  the  hearth  and  how 
complete  is  the  severance  the  war  has  made  between 
the  days  my  papers  recall  and  these  new  triumphant 
times  of  ours.  Verily,  the  old  play  is  off  the  stage,  the 
old  sentiments  out  of  place,  many  of  the  old  actors 
gone,  many  of  the  old  haunts  destroyed. 


2  THE    HEART    OF    WOMAN 

Why  these  regrets?  I  do  not  yet  confess  to  old  age, 
but  I  acknowledge  that  period  of  life  when  losses  can- 
not always  be  consoled  with  the  promise  of  future  ex- 
periences. The  recollections  of  twenty  are  like  the 
fallen  leaves  of  a  sapling,  but  what  consolation  for  what 
we  have  lost  is  there  at — fifty,  shall  I  say? 

Miss  Tenny  Wendell — where  is  she  now?  That  in- 
vitation to  dine  with  the  family  is  eighteen  years  old. 
As  I  read  it  her  girlish  face  flashed  for  a  moment  out 
of  the  paper  like  a  picture  in  invisible  ink. 

I  scarce  needed  that  other  note,  nearly  as  old,  pinned 
to  it,  to  recall  that  ride  out  to  Greenwich  with  the 
Lieutenant-Governor's  company,  some  twenty  of  us, 
gentlemen  and  ladies  of  the  best  fashion  in  New  York, 
the  halt  at  Mr.  Richardson's  country  house,  the  fine 
parcel  of  silver  eels  we  caught  and  had  dressed  for  sup- 
per, the  minuets  we  danced  later  and  how  merry  we 
were  riding  home  in  the  summer  dusk.  I  rode  with 
Miss  Phipps,  I  remember,  whom  I  kissed,  as  etiquette, 
and,  in  this  case,  inclination  also  required,  when  we 
passed  the  Kissing  Bridge. 

The  recollection  of  her  brought  again  before  me  the 
Captain,  her  father,  deaf  of  ear,  but  triumphant  of  voice, 
and  the  punch-wine  and  choice  corned  mackerel  I 
regaled  him  and  his  friends  with  that  distant  October 
night  at  the  King's  Head,  the  best  punch  house  at  that 
time  and  most  to  my  liking  of  all  on  the  Boston  Post 
Road. 

And  speaking  of  punch,  where  did  Col.  Debuke  learn 
the  secret  of  his?  How  instable  are  the  excellencies  of 


ALEX.  ADAMS'S  MEMENTOES  3 

life !  Surely  not  again  shall  I  taste  the  equal  of  that  he 
used  to  provide  at  his  lodgings  for  his  large  acquaint- 
ance, where  so  often  we  spent  the  night  singing  and 
toasting  the  King  and  the  Ladies  plentifully,  very 
merry  all  of  us,  until  we  broke  up  in  the  doubtful  morn- 
ing hours. 

How  distant  those  pictures  appeared  as  my  memen- 
toes evoked  them  !  Whither  was  that  ancient  company 
dispersed? 

"Dear!  Dear!"  the  mute  voice  within  exclaimed, 
"the  saddest  part  of  this  growing  old  is  the  departures 
it  has  to  reckon." 

And  then,  as  though  to  prove  my  philosophy,  my  eye 
alighted  on  a  memorandum  I  had  made  of  that  turtle 
frolic  I  gave  at  Williams's — I  fear  to  count  the  years 
ago. 

Indeed,  had  I  not  sat  myself  down  this  damp,  gray 
Sunday,  to  a  belated  feast  of  memory,  with  empty 
dishes  and  vacant  chairs !  But  vacant  for  a  moment 
only! 

"At  Williams's,"  my  spirit  cried,  "I  culminated 
my  friends  around  me !  If  Memory  is  to  play  comforter 
to  me,  by  heaven  it  shall  be  only  on  condition  that 
those  chairs  are  kept  filled — and  my  glass,  that  I  may 
drink  to  the  shades  I  gathered  there !" 

I  arose  as  though  the  faces  were  around  me.  My 
hand  held  the  bumper  filled  to  the  overflowing  as  my 
heart  was. 

"Your  health,  Madam  Grace,"  I  cried.  "Yours, 
Madam  Quincy.  Yours,  too,  Capt.  Phillips.  Doctor 


4  THE    HEART    OF    WOMAN 

Bridges,    dear    old    friend,    to    you.     Sir    Thomas, 
sir,  your  servant.    Miss  Betsy,  your  devoted.    Miss  Ca- 

trina " 

My  hand  fell  suddenly,  all  my  company  vanished — 
all  but  two  whom  I  saw  before  me  in  the  light  of  a 
sweet  May  day  amid  an  orchard  in  blossom — the  blos- 
som of  fifteen  years  ago. 


CHAPTER  II. 
THE  ORCHARD  AT  HEATH COTE  HOUSE. 

THIS  orchard  was  a  part  of  the  country  house  Mr. 
Oliver  Heathcote  built  near  Greenwich  Village,  north 
of  my  Lady  Warren's,  a  few  years  before  he  was 
stricken  with  the  small-pox  in  1772  and  died.  He  had 
devised  the  grounds  quite  in  the  English  fashion,  sur- 
rounding the  house  with  a  hedge  of  box.  A  fine  ave- 
nue of  locust  trees  made  a  delightful  approach  to  the 
porch  in  front.  Behind  the  mansion  was  arranged  a 
beautiful  pleasure  garden  with  three  terraced  walks 
and  a  marble  fountain.  Beyond  all  was  a  large  orchard 
that  sloped  down  to  the  pebbly  shore  of  Hudson's 
River. 

His  widow  migrated  hither  from  the  city  annually 
during  the  torrid  months.  The  house  was  finely  ac- 
commodated for  company,  and  as  the  inclination  of  the 
lady  of  the  manor  was  decidedly  hospitable,  she  was 
never  without  a  number  of  relatives  and  friends  around 
her. 

Among  the  former  was  Catrina  Rutherford. 

It  must  have  been  in  the  latter  part  of  May.  I  re- 
member the  air  had  in  it  the  first  soft  hazy  sultriness 
of  summer  when  I  rode  with  my  friend,  Ralph  Ten- 
nant,  out  of  New  York,  along  the  country  lanes, 
through  the  sleepy  little  village  of  Greenwich  and  right 
up  to  Mrs.  Heathcote's  gate.  He  had  forced  me  to 


6  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

the  journey  with  so  little  explanation,  had  been  so 
strangely  uncommunicative  on  the  way,  that  I  suppose 
I  hesitated  for  a  moment  when  we  had  dismounted. 

"You  don't  fear  to  make  new  friends,  Alex?"  he 
asked,  knocking  the  dust  from  his  boots. 

"No,  indeed,"  I  replied,  as  we  passed  up  the  ave- 
nue. "But  I  confess  to  a  liking  for  some  trifling  prep- 
aration." 

"You  don't  need  it,"  he  said,  smiling.  "You  must 
remember  Miss  Rutherford,  my  companion  of  your 
company  at  Williams's  last  year.  This  is  my  Aunt's." 

"Oh,"  I  said,  "I  might  have  guessed  as  much." 

The  front  entrance  stood  open  to  admit  the  air.  Be- 
yond the  further  end  of  the  cool  dark  hallway,  through 
the  other  door,  likewise  open,  we  caught  a  glimpse  of 
the  garden  and  the  river. 

Ralph  entered  without  ceremony.  He  conducted 
me  straight  into  the  parlor,  a  large  room  elegantly  set 
off  with  pier  glasses.  It  was  darkened  to  exclude  the 
sunlight. 

Coming  so  directly  from  the  glare  without  I  scarce 
perceived  that  any  one  was  present  before  I  heard: 

"Ralph;  my  dear  boy!  This  time  you  have  caught 
me  napping!  The  last  two  days  have  quite  worn  me 
out.  I  see  we  did  not  tire  you  so  much  last  night  that 
you  could  not  make  the  journey  again  this  morning. 
Ah!  Unconquerable" youth!" 

There  was  a  tone  of  pleasantry  and  affection  in  the 
high,  sharp,  clear  voice. 

"I  promised  this  return,"  said  Ralph  lowly  as  he 


THE  ORCHARD  AT  HEATH  COTE  HOUSE.  ^ 

kissed  the  speaker  on  the  forehead,  "and,"  he  added,  "I 
have  ventured  to  bring  my  dearest  friend,  of  whom  I 
have  often  spoken,  Mr.  Adams." 

"Your  dearest  friend,"  she  repeated  slowly  and  with 
an  accent  of  curiosity  as  she  rose  to  my  presentation. 
"I  am  delighted  to  meet  a  gentleman  so  highly  ap- 
proved." 

As  I  bowed  to  this  courtly  welcome  I  saw  Mrs. 
Heathcote  was  a  lady  of  stout  proportions  and  walked 
with  the  aid  of  a  heavy  gold-headed  cane.  Her  feat- 
ures were  singularly  aquiline,  her  complexion  of  a 
sallow  tint  that  rather  emphasized  her  penetrating  dark 
eyes.  She  was  attired  in  black,  with  a  scrupulous  neat- 
ness. There  was,  indeed,  in  her  appearance  and  man- 
ner an  unmistakable  air  of  high  distinction. 

"The  moments  that  remain  are  few,  Ralph,"  she  said. 
"It  is  arranged  finally  that  Catrina  goes  down  in  Mr. 
De  Lancy's  sloop.  That  is  the  easiest  way.  Mr.  Hicks 
has  been  very  kind  in  arranging  this  matter  for  us. 
Without  his  aid  I  don't  know  what  we  could  have 
done.  The  adieux  are  all  said." 

"Where  is  Catrina?"  Ralph  asked. 

"In  the  garden,  I  believe.  Poor,  motherless  child," 
she  continued,  speaking  rather  to  me  than  to  Ralph. 
"She  is  loath  to  make  this  journey.  Naturally  enough, 
she  barely  remembers  her  aunt.  Ralph,  you  may  leave 
me  to  entertain  Mr.  Adams." 

Miss  Rutherford  did  not  perceive  Ralph  until  he  had 
lifted  the  low  branches  of  the  apple  tree  under  which 
she  was  resting  and  was  almost  by  her  side. 


8  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Dreaming,  Catrina?" 

Her  reverie  was  still  half  with  her  as  she  asked : 

"Was  I?" 

"Were  you !"  he  exclaimed.  "The  last  minute  is  sad- 
der than  you  expected,  eh?  What  are  you  doing  here?" 

She  smiled. 

"You  will  think  me  foolishly  sentimental,  but  I 
couldn't  go  without  bidding  my  old  trees  goodby. 
Ralph,  do  you  remember  the  day  we  named  them?" 

Catrina's  voice  was  close  to  tears.  With  intent  to 
support  her  Ralph  answered  briskly: 

"My  memory  isn't  short.  Shall  I  ever  forget  it? 
Then  I  was  to  sail.  I  don't  forget,  either,  I  had  as  little 
inclination  for  Oxford  as  you  have  for  Virginia." 

"You  are  scarce  home  Ralph  when  this  wind 
blows  me  away.  It  is  too  bad!"  she  complained.  "Do 
you  know,  I  don't  think  I  should  be  going,  but  for  Mr. 
Hicks.  He  advises  it  so  strongly." 

"I  wish  any  protest  of  mine  could  keep  you.  Aunt 
won't  listen.  We  have  scarce  had  time  to  renew  the 
old  friendship." 

"Was  it  ever  broken?"  she  asked  quietly. 

"No,  indeed;  no,"  he  said.  "But  it  isn't  quite  what 
it  was,  is  it,  Catrina?  There  is  a  difference.  I  don't 
know  what.  A  dozen  times  I  have  meant  to  speak  to 
you,  but — you  say  I  always  take  the  easy  road,  and — 
somehow  it  has  been  easier  to  say  nothing.  I  thought 
when  I  returned  we  would  drop  into  the  old  ways,  but 
— I  suppose  they  belonged  to  childhood.  Alex  says 
there  is  always  a  break  or  change  when " 


THE  ORCHARD  AT  HEATHCOTE  HOUSE  g 

Ralph's  feelings  were  carrying  him  along. 

"When?"  asked  Catrina,  as  he  hesitated. 

Ralph  was  gazing  at  the  river  flowing  before  him. 

" when  the  current  reaches  the  deeper  waters 

and  feels  the  tides." 

Catrina  remained  silent. 

She  knew  Ralph  was  scanning  her  face.  She  also 
felt  that  in  his  words  the  reserve,  the  vague  sense  of 
some  novel  element  in  their  old  frank  association 
which  she  had  noticed  since  his  return  from  Europe 
was  striving  for  a  voice.  For  the  first  time  in  their 
long  companionship  his  tone  stirred  her.  Ralph  had 
been  extravagantly  gay  recently.  Catrina  was  half- 
consciously  happy  that  now  at  the  hour  of  her  de- 
parture his  spirits  should  terminate  in  a  mood  so 
similar  to  that  brooding  within  herself. 

"Feels  the  tides,"  she  repeated  slowly.  "The  tide  is 
carrying  me  away  in  earnest.  Still — " 

She  turned  sharply.  Clapping  her  hands  together, 
she  caught  a  falling  blossom,  as  though  it  were  a  but- 
terfly. 

"Do  you  know  I  have  been  watching  these  fall  for 
the  last  hour.  Oh,  Ralph,  how  I  hate  to  leave !  What 
are  you  thinking  of?"  she  asked,  looking  at  him  in- 
tently. 

"Oh,"  he  answered,  shaking  off  his  meditation,  "I 
WHS  wondering — I  suppose  it's  impossible  to  say  how 
long  you  will  be  away?" 

UI  don't  know.  How  long  will  these  troubles  last, 
Ralph?" 


IO  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Goodness  knows!  I  hope  not  so  long  that  you'll 
forget  old  friends." 

"Forget !"  she  echoed  quickly.  "Why  should  I  for- 
get? As  you  said  a  moment  ago,  my  memory  isn't 
short.' 

"It  is  my  memory  against  yours?" 

"The  challenge  doesn't  daunt  me." 

"Remember  you'll  find  little  in  Virginia  to  keep  us 
here  in  mind.  I  know  how  it  is." 

"Still  you  didn't  forget.  Neither  shall  I.  But, 
Ralph " 

Catrina  hesitated. 

"I — I  wish — let  me  beg  a  keepsake,  any  trifle  as — as 
a  token  of  the  challenge  between  us.  Do  you  mind?" 

"What  have  I?" 

"Any  trifle,"  she  said. 

"I  have  nothing  else  for  you,"  he  said  like  one  for- 
getting himself.  Then  he  added  quickly :  "Catrina,  take 
this  old  ring.  Keep  it  until  you  return.  I  can't  give  it 
to  you.  Mother  gave  it  to  me." 

He  offered  her  the  jewel  from  his  finger. 

"Oh !  No,  Ralph,"  she  cried,  much  confused. 

At  that  moment  they  heard  the  stumping  of  Mrs. 
Heathcote's  cane  on  the  walk  and  my  own  footsteps 
approaching. 

"It  is  too  large.  I  may  lose  it,"  she  added  as  he 
quickly  slipped  it  on  her  finger. 

"Catrina,"  he  whispered  hurriedly,  "it  may  fit  better 
by-and-by.  When  you  return " 

"Catrina!   Catrina!"  commanded   Mrs.    Heathcote. 


THE  ORCHARD  AT  HEATHCOTE  HOUSE  II 

"You  must  hurry,  child,  Mr.  De  Lancy  is  now  due. 
Here,  dear,  this  is  Mr.  Adams,  Ralph's  friend." 

"I  have  met  Mr.  Adams  before,"  she  said,  striving  to 
cover  her  excitement.  "I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
him  when  Ralph  and  I  were  indebted  to  him  for  a  very 
pleasant  entertainment.  I  fear  I  was  almost  unbidden." 

"Not  unbidden,"  I  said  earnestly,  much  struck  on 
this  second  encounter  by  the  sweetness  of  her  features, 
"certainly  twice  welcome." 

"You  are  very  kind,"  she  murmured,  and  hurried 
from  us  into  the  house. 

Four  hours  later  Ralph  and  I  stood  on  the  waterfront 
in  New  York  near  the  Whitehall  slip  to  watch  the  sloop 
go  by.  When  Miss  Catrina  passed  the  point  of  the 
island  she  signalled  to  us  as  prearranged.  Ralph  and 
I  waved  back  to  her  our  good-by.  We  waited,  gazing 
at  the  movements  of  the  craft  until  she  passed  almost 
beyond  the  Narrows,  where  the  brig  Mercury  was  wait- 
ing to  go  out  with  the  tide,  taking  Miss  Catrina  and 
two  members  of  Mr.  De  Lancy's  family. 

Ralph  at  last  turned  to  me. 

"Well,  Alex,  let  us  go,"  he  said.  "I  fear  I  have  tired 
you  to-day.  Truth  is,  this  parting  is,  somehow,  dole- 
ful." 

As  he  offered  no  explanation  to  me  so  far  of  my  part 
in  the  day's  proceedings,  I  asked: 

"What  does  it  mean,  my  boy?" 

I  was  so  much  his  elder  that  at  times  I  confessed  my 
years. 


12  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Alex,  "I  swear  I  don't  know !"  he  exclaimed  with 
vehemence.  'There  are  people  doomed  to  resolve  ever 
too  late.  Oh,  come,  let's  drink  to  the  travelers." 

Beyond  this  I  got  nothing  out  of  him. 

I  knew  he  and  Miss  Catrina  had  been  companions 
since  childhood.  So  much  he  had  told  me  when  he 
requested  permission  to  make  her  one  of  my  party  with 
himself  at  Williams's.  Five  years  before,  at  the  time  he 
departed  for  England  to  complete  his  education,  he  was 
little  more  than  a  lad.  I  don't  think  there  was  a  differ- 
ence of  a  year  in  their  ages.  It  is  true  during  the  few 
months  since  Ralph's  return  he  had  been  a  constant 
visitor  at  his  Aunt's,  but  I  who  knew  him  so  well  and 
saw  so  much  of  him,  observed  nothing  that  indicated 
anything  beyond  a  renewal  of  the  old  associations. 
But,  even  of  this  he  said  nothing  to  me. 

Long  afterward  in  talking  of  the  matter  with  Mrs. 
Heathcote,  she  said,  speaking  perhaps  rather  to  justify 
an  old  woman's  pride  in  her  intuition  than  with  any 
clear  memory  of  actual  perceptions  at  the  time : 

"Oh,  I  was  not  blind,  Mr.  Adams,  I  assure  you.  I 
knew  Catrina  and  I  knew  Ralph,  and  I  recognized  in 
them  that  there  are  some  natures  that  are  naturally  al- 
lied." 

"Vanity,"  I  thought. 

Yet  here  am  I  writing  about  it.  As  events  happened 
— and  afterward — I  learned  from  many  sources  the  full 
history  of  the  matter,  and  now  I  am  setting  it  down  in 
order  only  to  see  it  as  a  whole  and  understand  it — if  I 
can. 


CHAPTER    III. 
ISAAC  SCOTT  MAKES  HIS  APPEARANCE. 

UPON  leaving  our  station  on  the  water  front  near  the 
fort  we  strolled  slowly  to  my  lodgings  on  Queen 
street,  whither  I  asked  Ralph  to  repair  with  me  long 
enough  to  permit  me  to  despatch  a  short  note  to  my 
friend,  Gen.  Putnam,  in  answer  to  one  of  his.  As  a  re- 
sult it  was  dusk  before  we  entered  the  Provincial  Arms. 
The  Mall  was  deserted.  When  we  passed  Trinity  the 
lights  in  the  houses  on  Broadway  were  beginning  to 
appear  feebly. 

That  was  an  utterly  careless  visit  of  ours,  begotten  of 
merely  a  momentary  mood;  yet  how  exactly,  as  now  I 
look  back  I  see  it  fitted  into  the  plot  Destiny  had  de- 
vised. 

We  found  the  taproom  filled  with  a  more  numerous 
company  than  ordinary.  Entering,  I  saluted  a  few  of 
my  acquaintance  present.  There  happened  to  be  va- 
cant a  small  table  in  a  remote  corner,  and  Ralph  and  I 
sat  down  to  it  and  ordered  our  wine. 

At  first  the  conversation  around,  though  loud,  was 
so  general  that  we  were  little  disturbed  by  it.  I  en- 
deavored to  bring  Ralph  to  a  more  cheerful  mood.  The 
talk  of  the  room  was  all  of  a  political  cast.  The  country 
was  in  open  revolt  against  the  home  government. 


14  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Every  day  brought  forth  some  event  to  inflame  or  im- 
passion men.  The  Virginia  convention  at  Williams- 
burg  a  few  days  before  had  instructed  its  delegates  in 
the  Continental  Congress  to  move  for  a  declaration  of 
independence,  and  this  action  of  the  southern  patriots 
had  given  at  last  public  voice  to  the  extreme  sentiments 
of  a  large  body  of  the  people.  Independence  had  yet  a 
bold  sound  to  many,  but  like  the  blast  of  a  trumpet,  the 
tone  stirred  even  the  timid. 

Perhaps  in  unconscious  sympathy  with  'the  topic  of 
the  general  company  I  dropped  into  politics  with 
Ralph. 

"I  know  which  way  you  lean,  Alex,"  he  said  at  last, 
smiling.  "I'm  so  cold  I  fear  I  shall  not  please  you  with 
either  extreme.  I  have  been  out  of  these  simmering 
years  that  others  have  passed  through." 

"I'm  no  extremist,"  I  broke  in.  "But  in  a  serious 
moment  like  this  there  is  a  station  which  every  man  is 
bound  to  take." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "I  have  no  foothold  yet.  My  predi- 
lections, if  I  have  any,  run  in  my  father's  footsteps.  You 
know,  with  him  loyalty  was  the  first  duty  of  a  gentle- 
man." 

A  voice  shrill  as  a  pipe  penetrated  the  buzz  of  con- 
versation. 

"It's  damned  insolence,  I  say,  for  Freddy  North 
and  that  immaculate  Johnny  Bute  to  talk  of  clemency 
and  pardon  to  this  free  people.  For  what,  in  the  name 
of  heaven?  For  protecting  our  homes?  Asserting  our 
rights?  Let  them  send  over  their  boasted  'regulars' — 


ISAAC  SCOTT  MAKES  HIS  APPEARANCE  1 5 

Hessians,  Brunswickers,  Hanoverians,  Waldeckers — 
the  free  and  independent  states  of  America  are  not  to 
be  terrified  by  all  the  slaves  of  king-ridden  Europe." 

Instantly  the  room  was  in  silence. 

The  man  who  had  attracted  the  company's  attention 
was  a  small,  slim,  wiry  individual,  with  a  bristling,  ex- 
citable manner.  His  dress  declared  him  a  person  of 
some  importance.  He  was  surrounded  by  a  numerous 
following.  Many,  quite  evidently,  had  been  drinking 
freely.  Of  these  was  a  gentleman  the  very  opposite  in 
stature  of  the  speaker — a  portly  man,  with  an  immense 
head,  who,  despite  his  pea-green  coat,  white  satin  vest 
and  nankeen  small  clothes,  discovered  in  his  attire  a 
certain  personal  negligence.  He  was  lounging  back  in 
his  chair,  with  his  legs  stretched  out  under  the  table. 

"Scott !"  he  exclaimed,  drowsily,  "I  like  your  invec- 
tive. There  are  teeth  in  it — always." 

The  little  man  smiled  vainly. 

"I  wish  I  had  your  thunder,  Reilly,"  he  said  by  way 
of  a  return  of  the  compliment. 

"Gad,  I  don't  doubt  it,"  said  the  big  man,  calmly, 
"but,"  he  added,  striking  his  chest  with  a  ponderous 
hairy  fist,  "your  body  would  first  have  to  suffer  a 
trifling  inflation. 

"We  cannot  all  be  Jove,"  said  the  other,  uneasily. 

"By  Jove,  we  can't !"  exclaimed  Reilly,  with  a  loud 
laugh.  "But  come,  Scott,  speaking  of  'regulars,'  oblige 
this  patriotic  company  with  that  song  of  yours,  'The 
King's  Own  Regulars.'  I  assure  you,  gentlemen,  as 
Mr.  Scott  sings  it,  his  voice  is  the  very  fife  of  satire." 


1 6  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

The  littlej:man  peevishly  demurred,  but  the  spirit  of 
the  company  would  entertain  no  refusal.  Glasses  were 
refilled  and  Mr.  Scott,  after  further  pressing,  in  a  kind 
of  piping  recitative  and  with  very  evident  nervousness 
began : 

Since  you  all  will  have  singing  and  won't  be  said  nay, 

I  cannot  refuse,  when  you  so  beg  and  pray; 

So  I'll  sing  you  a  song — as  a  body  may  say, 

'Tis  of  the  King's  Regulars,  who  ne'er  ran  away. 

In  a  deep  bass  voice  Mr.  Reilly  echoed,  thumping 
the  table  as  though  it  were  a  drum: 

"  'Tis  of  the  King's  Regulars,  who  ne'er  ran  away." 

Grown  proud  at  reviews  tyrant  George  had  no  rest; 
Each  grandsire  of  his  had  rebellion  suppressed, 
He  wished  a  rebellion,  looked  round  and  saw  none, 
So  resolved  a  rebellion  to  make  of  his  own. 

He  pitched  on  the  Yankees.    Said  he,  they  won't  fight. 

So  he  sent  us  away  to  take  over  their  right. 

And  to  spare    our    review    clothes    he    begged,    and 

begged  louder: 
"Brother  Kings  for  God's  sake   sell   the   Yankees   no 

powder." 

Our  General  mighty  did  bravely  devise 
How  at  Lexington  we  might  the  Yankees  surprise. 
We  marched,  and  remarched,  and  at  last,  being  beat, 
Our  General's  plan  of  surprise — was  complete. 

Near  Boston  we  met  with  some  rebels  one  day, 
We  marshalled  ourselves  all  in 


ISAAC  SCOTT  MAKES  HIS  APPEARANCE  \J 

The  company  in  the  room,  with  the  exce  Hion  of  our- 
selves and  another  couple  of  gentlemen  sitting  at  a 
table  near  to  ours,  had  either  gathered  around  the 
singer  or  had  drawn  up  their  chairs  closer  to  him.  All 
were  mightily  amused.  Every  stanza  was  greeted  with 
noisy  hilarity. 

I  must  say  even  to  myself  there  was  something 
piquant  in  the  misty  picture  of  that  little  man  in  the 
yellow  candle  light  befogged  with  tobacco  smoke  de- 
livering that  doggerel  in  his  peculiarly  monotonous  and 
strident  voice,  which  piped  higher  and  higher  as  his 
excitement  mastered  him  under  the  stimulus  of  the 
general  applause. 

Early  in  the  performance  it  was  evident  our  two  near 
neighbors  did  not  relish  the  entertainment.  One  was 
a  red-haired,  robust,  beefy-faced  man  of  great  breadth 
of  shoulder.  His  finery  did  not  hide  a  pronounced 
coarseness  of  nature.  His  companion  was  younger, 
tall,  agile  of  frame,  with  noticeable  quick,  frank  and 
sympathetic  eyes.  While  Mr.  Scott  was  repeating  his 
ode  I  saw  the  elder  of  these  two,  more  than  once, 
place  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  his  friend,  in  a  re- 
straining manner,  but  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  verse 
the  younger  man  jumped  to  his  feet  impetuously, 
kicked  over  his  chair  and  broke  out  in  a  voice  clearly 
habituated  to  command : 

"Enough  of  that  ribald  treason !  Cunningham,  I  can 
stand  this  no  longer !  Damn  me  if  my  protest  shan't  go 
for  what  it's  worth." 

He  strode  past  me  to  Mr.  Scott. 


1 8  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

A  tense  silence  fell  upon  the  room. 

"Am  I  to  understand  you  desire  to  interrupt  me, 
sir?"  cried  Mr.  Scott  excitedly,  before  the  other  had 
time  to  address  him. 

"I  care  little,  sir,  how  you  understand  it.  You  shall 
not  proceed  with  your  disreputable  song  if  it  lies  in  my 
power  to  choke  it  in  your  throat.  I  have  yet  to  learn 
that  rebellion  absolves  the  subject  of  his  duties  or  the 
gentleman  of  his  manners." 

"Who,  pray,  is  this  doughty  minion  of  King 
George?"  sneered  Mr.  Scott. 

"You're  welcome  to  my  name,  sir.    I  am  Percy. 

"Lord  Percy!  You  are  braver  in  the  tavern,  my 
lord,  than  we  found  you  in  the  field.  Your  run  from 
Lexington  didn't  wind  you,  I  see. 

"Insolent  rebel!" 

The  next  moment  Percy  had  seized  his  opponent  by 
the  throat. 

Immediately  the  room  was  in  an  uproar.  Cunning- 
ham, Lord  Percy's  companion,  made  a  dash  to  aid  his 
friend  and  felled  two  of  the  crowd  who  endeavored  to 
impede  him.  Ralph  was  close  to  Percy.  Without  a 
moment's  thought  he  was  up,  seized  him  from  behind, 
and  flung  him  aside  against  the  table  at  which  we  had 
been  sitting. 

Percy  would  have  fallen  but  for  the  momentary  sup- 
port this  obstacle  afforded  him.  Leaning  against  it  to 
steady  himself,  he  eyed  Ralph. 

"This  is  hardly  the  way  to  re-establish  your  reputa- 
tion, laying  hands  on  an  old  man,"  cried  Ralph. 


ISAAC  SCOTT  MAKES  HIS  APPEARANCE  1 9 

Perhaps  Lord  Percy  was  stung.  Certainly  it  arrest- 
ed prompt  attack  upon  Ralph,  for  he  cried : 

"Who  the  devil  are  you ?" 

"You  are  as  welcome  to  my  name,  as  we  were  to 
yours.  My  name  is  Tennant." 

The  commotion  that  followed  drowned  Percy's  reply. 

"Down  with  the  Tories !"  roared  some  one. 

'Tar "and  feather  them !" 

"The  Liberty  Pole !" 

What  might  have  happened  I  cannot  say.  The  com- 
pany was  closing  around  the  two  Tories.  At  this  junc- 
ture both  realized  the  precariousness  of  their  position. 
Fighting,  they  made  toward  the  fireplace  for  a  door- 
way that  led  to  the  garden  in  the  rear  of  the  tavern. 

It  was  a  sharp  shuffle.  Blows  were  struck  at  ran- 
dom. But  the  two  succeeded  in  reaching  the  door,  and 
covered  by  the  darkness,  fled  to  the  river's  edge,  fol- 
lowed by  the  irate  crowd. 

It  appeared  Percy  and  his  friend  had  made  their  en- 
try— a  most  risky  adventure  for  them — by  water,  for 
their  boat  was  on  the  shore.  I  among  the  first  reached 
the  bank.  The  fugitives  had  made  good  their  escape, 
and  we  could  hear  the  retreating  sound  of  oars  rapidly 
plied. 

Somebody  discharged  a  pistol  at  random  into  the 
darkness.  Almost  with  the  echoes  of  the  report  re- 
turned the  cry: 

"There  will  be  a  day  of  reckoning,  you  rebels !" 

In  a  tavern  almost  everything  that  happens  fur- 
nishes an  occasion  for  drinking.  It  was  not  surprising 


2O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

that  when  the  excited  crowd  re-entered  the  taproom 
conviviality  was  renewed  on  a  liberal  scale.  The  un- 
expected episode  was,  of  course,  the  topic  of  all  conver- 
sation, and  denunciation  of  all  Tories  was  washed  down 
with  an  abundance  of  good  Whig  liquor.  Shortly  patri- 
otism reached  a  highly  spirituous  and  turbulent  mood. 

Ralph  and  I  lingered,  at  first,  listening,  but  our  in- 
terest fagged  and  we  were  about  to  depart,  when  Mr. 
Scott,  as  though  aware  of  our  intention,  came  over  to 
where  we  were  sitting.  His  face  confessed  liberal  pota- 
tions. His  manner  was  a  bit  unsteady,  but  betrayed  a 
certain  suavity  and  good  nature  quite  invisible  when  I 
first  cast  eyes  on  him.  His  wine  had  mellowed  him. 
Addressing  Ralph,  he  said : 

"I  hope,  sir — I  sincerely  trust — you  don't  think  I'm 
— tardy  in  thanking  you  for  your  service  recently?" 

"My  service,  sir?"  inquired  Ralph. 

"Your  really  eminent  service,  sir.  Gad,  restoring  my 
windpipe  to  the  performance  of  its — its  function,  isn't 
that  a  service?  I  came  near  to  finishing  more  than  my 
ditty." 

"Oh,  that  was  altogether  too  lively  for  a  swan  song," 
said  Ralph,  smiling. 

"Swan  song!  Ha!  Ha!  I  fear  you  consider  me 
something  of  an  old  cackling  goose  sporting  my  voice 
in  public.  But  as  you  are  from  Oxford,  sir,  I  may  say, 
deeming  myself  inter  flwnina  nota  ct  fontes  sacros,  I  hoped 
my  indiscretion  had  an  air  of  merely  homely  levity. 
When  we  encounter  the  crowd  it  must  be  nugis  armatus. 
Am  I  not  right?" 


ISAAC  SCOTT  MAKES  HIS  APPEARANCE  21 

The  little  man  delivered  himself  in  a  rhetorical,  jerky, 
comical  manner,  blinking  his  eyes  rapidly  in  an  endeav- 
or to  hide  his  unsteadiness. 

"Of  course,  Mr.  Tennant,  I'm  aware  my  perform- 
ance may  have  been  off — offensive  to  you  and,"  he 
added,  leaning  over  the  table  to  whisper,  "if  it  was  I 
apologize.  I  am  doubly  grateful  for  your  service — if 
you'll  allow  it,  also  a  little  sur — surprised " 

One  could  not  help  detecting  a  slightly  obsequious 
note — it  was  pitched  a  tone  or  two  above  familiarity — 
in  this  rambling  utterance,  quite  at  variance  with  the 
speaker's  previous  acrid  coldness.  Ralph  looked  at  me 
inquiringly,  then  at  the  stranger,  who,  seeing  my 
friend's  hesitation,  asked : 

"Can  it  be  you  haven't  heard  of  Isaac  Scott !" 

"I  have  been  absent  from  home  so  long,  sir,  you 
must  forgive  me  ignorance  of  much  I  ought  to  know. 
Certainly  until  to-night  you  have  been  a  stranger  to 
me,  even  in  name." 

"Five  years  in  England — yes,  five — 1772,  1773,  1774, 
1775  and  1776  (he  checked  the  count  off  on  his  fin- 
gers). It  was,  egad,  a  long  break." 

He  said  this  to  himself  in  a  tone  of  fine  concession. 
Then  bending  toward  Ralph  he  hastened  to  add : 

"Don't  think  I'm  arguing  myself  a  public  character. 
You  and  I,  sir,  come  closer  to  one  another  than  that. 
It  wouldn't  have  been  strange — not  at  all — had  you 
heard  of  me  privately — and  preposterously — eh?  Stick- 
ing pins  into  you?  Let  me  order  those  glasses  refilled. 
Do.  Eh?" 


22  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

He  ordered  wine.  When  it  had  been  set  before  us 
he  said  with  a  lush  confidence : 

"I  don't  often  feel  like  this,  really  I  don't.  It's  ex- 
hilarating, isn't  it?" 

"It's  an  honor  I  appreciate,"  said  Ralph  quizzically. 

"Honor?  No.  No.  It's  a  service,  sir,  I  intend  to 

return  for  yours.  No,  that  isn't  it,  I  mean "  he 

paused  slowly  struggling  to  think  lucidly.  "But  drink. 
And  let  me — propose  a  toast — one — day — I  assure 
you,  you  will  drink — as  I  do — to  the  damnation  of 
Whitehead  Hicks." 

Flushed,  his  little  eyes  flashing  with  a  serpent-like 
brilliancy,  he  rose  and  extended  his  glass  to  Ralph's. 

Instantly  Ralph,  too,  was  on  his  feet. 

"This  is  a  queer  insult,  sir.  I  like  it  none  the  less  be- 
cause you  are  making  use  of  the  name  of  my  friend," 
he  said  warmly. 

"Your  guardian,  eh?  Ha!  Ha!"  the  little  man 
rattled  as  he  dropped  back  into  his  chair.  "But  I  beg 
you  to  be  seated — do — while  I  exs — explain.  Thank 
you." 

"Only  for  that  purpose,"  said  Ralph  as  he  complied. 
"How  comes  it  you  know  my  affairs  so  intimately?" 

"An  accident,  sir — a  misfortune.  Let  me  'splain. 
For  four — four — four  years  I  was  Hicks's  partner. 
Damn  him!  Surprised? 

"You?"  cried  Ralph. 

"I — sir — I,  to  my  everlasting  regret.  Four  years  to 
discover— ugh — the  blindness  of  one's  eyes!  Poor 
optics !  Nature  joined  in  the  deceit.  She  has  masked 


ISAAC  SCOTT  MAKES  HIS  APPEARANCE.  2$ 

that  hypocrite — most   perfect   disguise.     King's   com- 
missioner !  Thief !  Renegade !    Damn  him !" 

The  heat  of  the  room  and  the  operation  of  the  liquor 
were  increasing  his  tendency  to  incoherence.  His 
moods,  pompous,  familiar,  querulous,  bitter,  succeeded 
one  another  with  rapidity. 

"This  is  no  explanation,"  cried  Ralph  hotly. 

His  glass  to  his  lips,  Scott  replied  nodding,  "True! 
It's  descriptive.  But  really — really,  it  isn't  from  me. 
If  you  only  understood — you  ought  to  demand  a  bill  of 
particulars.  (He  said  "billerticklers.")  You  are  swin — 
died,  sir — as  I  was.  Demand  a  reckoning.  Damn 
thief!  Years  of  absence,  eh?  Golden  'tunity — gambling 
scoundrel.  Be  careful — distrust — boyish  confidence — 
old  fox — King's  commissioner !  Ha !  Ha !  Ha !" 

The  wine  had  completely  conquered  him. 

He  sat  in  front  of  us  nodding  sleepily. 

"This  is  outrageous,"  cried  Ralph  to  me. 

"Eh?"  murmured  the  little  man  struggling  to  awake. 
"Out-rageous !  'Tis!  eminently!  Order'm  in.  They 
all  drink.  The  King's  own  regulars!  Ha!" 

He  arose,  looked  at  us  stupidly. 

"Red  coats !    Red  hands !    Red  wine !"  he  cried,  wav 
ing  his  arms. 

He  collapsed  and  fell  to  the  floor. 


CHAPTER    IV. 
THE  DAWN  OF  SUSPICION. 

THE  affair  in  the  tavern  did  not  improve  Ralph's  spir- 
its. Outwardly  he  affected  little  heed  to  the  befuddled 
statements  of  Mr.  Scott,  but  there  is  something  sticky 
about  defamation,  and  I  could  see  Ralph  was  busy  with 
the  aspersions  cast  upon  his  father's  friend. 

"That  man's  statements  are  inconceivable,"  he  said 
to  me  in  a  musing  way  as  we  turned  into  Wall  street, 
on  the  way  home. 

"He  was  Mr.  Hicks's  partner,"  I  suggested. 

"He  says  he  was!"  he  exclaimed  with  force. 

"He  was,"  said  I. 

"How  do  you  know?"  he  asked,  turning  on  me. 

"My  dear  boy,  remember  I  haven't  been  away  from 
New  York  for  the  past  five  years.  This  town  isn't  so 
large  that  one  of  some  prominence  can  be  lost  in  it. 
Mr.  Scott  is  well  known — a  man  of  temper  and  irasci- 
bility, as  you  may  judge,  but  he's  honest.  He  stands 
well." 

"He  does?"  he  asked,  softly. 

"He  does,"  I  repeated.  "Unless  his  liquor  to-night 
made  him  quite  irresponsible,  I  would  not  take  any- 
thing he  said  too  lightly.  I  recollect,  at  the  time  he 


THE  DAWN  OF  SUSPICION  2$ 

parted  from  Mr.  Hicks,  there  was  talk  of  a  fierce  dis- 
agreement between  them.  Nothing  but  the  discord  of 
the  times  silenced  it." 

"Ugh,"  he  grunted.    "This  is  the  first  I  hear  of  it." 

"It  may  not  be  too  late,"  I  said. 

"Too  late,  Alex!   For  what,  pray?" 

"Why,"  said  I,  "to  protect  yourself." 

"The*n  you  take  stock  in  that  drunkard's  ravings?" 
he  demanded. 

"Perhaps  we  had  better  drop  the  subject,"  I  sug- 
gested. 

"No,"  said  he,  testily,  "I  don't  wish  it,  having  gone 
so  far." 

"Well,"  said  I,  stung  a  little  by  his  spirit,  "I  would 
prefer  to  drop  it.  I  have  no  wish  to  offend  you,  Ralph, 
by  unwelcome  frankness." 

"Oh,  come,"  he  cried,  with  a  laugh  that  was  still  a 
bit  uneasy,  "it  would  be  queer  if  I  couldn't  hear  any- 
thing you  had  to  tell  me." 

"If  that  be  so,"  said  I,  resolutely,  "I  will  confess  I 
have  little  confidence  in  Whitehead  Hicks.  There's  a 
polish  there,  like  steel,  that  indicates  sharpness." 

"He  is  a  Tory,  eh?    Admit  your  prejudice,  Alex." 

"Not  at  all,"  I  protested.  "I  distrusted  the  man  long 
before  his  political  opinions  were  of  any  positive  ac- 
count." 

"You  distrust  him  the  more,  no  doubt,  now  that  he 
prefers  the  safety  of  His  Majesty's  flag  to  the  freedom 
of  this  city.  Eh?" 

"Ralph,  there  was  no  need  of  his  speedy  absconding 


26  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

to  that  man-of-war  out  yonder.  He  replied  before  he 
was  challenged.  Such  prudence  has  a  meaning." 

"Much  good  his  reply  would  have  done  after  chal- 
lenge !  Did  not  Governor  Tryon  and  others  withdraw 
as  early?" 

"Yes,  but  for  known  reasons.  Remember,  Hicks 
played  the  friend,  even  wore  a  Whiggish  phiz  for  a 
time,  then  sneaked  away.  Strange,  too,  shortly  after 
that  visit  of  his  to  London." 

"To  London !"  he  echoed. 

"Are  you  ignorant  there,  too?"  I  asked.  "You  in 
England  at  the  time!" 

"I  saw  him  not,"  said  Ralph,  dolefully.  "That  is 
strange.  Very."  • 

"Yet  you  remember  his  appointments  Scott  hinted 
<af,"  I  suggested,  my  own  mind  receiving  a  gleam  of 
new  light  as  I  spoke.  "But,"  I  added,  "why  bother? 
Your  property  is  of  more  importance  to  you  than  these 
political  matters,  which  will  clear  themselves  in  time. 
Have  you  ever  had  an  accounting?" 

"I  have  demanded  none,"  he  said. 

"And  none  was  offered?"  I  vouchsafed. 

"None;  but  you  see,  Alex,"  he  pleaded,  "  I  came 
of  age  when  abroad,  and  since  I  returned — well,  you 
know,  at  first  I  was  all  for  pleasure,  finding  old  friends, 
and  lately  everything  has  been  too  disturbed  for  busi- 
ness." 

"Too  bad !"  I  cried.  "There  is  more  trouble  ahead, 
and  who  can  foretell  the  outcome?" 

We  were  by  this  time  before  the  door  of  my  lodg- 


THE  DAWN  OF  SUSPICION  2"J 

ings.    Although  I  pressed  Ralph  to  enter  for  a  while, 
he  refused. 

"I  wish,"  said  he,  as  he  gave  me  "good-night," 
"there  was  some  way  of  my  getting  out  to  the  "Asia" 
to-morrow.  Jerry  Alner,  I  hear,  keeps  a  strict  watch 
over  all  arrivals  and  departures  since  old  Putnam's 
order  forbidding  communication  between  the  fleet  and 
the  shore,  and  faith !  while  I  have  a  most  real  desire  now 
to  speak  with  the  King's  commissioner,  I  would  not 
like  it  at  the  risk  of  being  taken  as  a  public  enemy." 

"No  doubt  we  can  find  a  way,"  said  I,  "if  you  have 
a  mind  for  it." 

"I  think  I  have,"  said  he. 

The  next  morning  I  was  scarce  seated  at  breakfast 
when  Ralph  arrived.  He  was  in  a  much  pleasanter 
mood  than  the  evening  before.  Indeed,  he  was  in  quite 
boyish  spirits,  as  was  often  the  case  with  him,  for  he 
fluctuated  from  one  extreme  of  humor  to  another  with- 
out apparent  cause. 

"If  you  were  to  ask  me  to  breakfast,  Alex,  I  might 
not  refuse,"  he  suggested  gayly.  "Not  a  bite  have  I 
had  yet,  though  I  have  been  up  three  hours." 

"What  have  you  been  doing?"  I  asked,  preparing  a 
place  for  him  at  the  table. 

"Receiving  apologies,  Alex,  from  our  friend  of  last 
night." 

"Who?  Scott?  Where  the  deuce  did  you  meet  him 
so  early?" 

"I  did  not  meet  him;  he  came  to  me,  as  though  he 
were  an  old  visitor;  polished  with  politeness,  verbal  with 


28  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

regrets.  He  is  a  queer  little  old  fellow.  I  don't  alto- 
gether dislike  him.  Looked  like  a  sick  terrier.  So- 
briety returns  like  a  dyspeptic  Puritan." 

"What  did  he  say?"  I  asked. 

"What  didn't  he  say?  Talked  for  two  hours.  Filled 
in  his  incoherences  of  last  night  with  a  most  circum- 
stantial tale  of  his  late  partner's  villainies.  The  moral — 
but  there  wasn't  anything  moral  in  his  story — the  con- 
clusion is:  some  part,  perhaps  a  large  part,  of  all  my 
floating  property  may  be  dissipated — gone,  apparently, 
to  pay  a  gambler's  debts  of  honor.  If  all  I  hear  is  true 
the  outbreak  of  trouble  must  have  been  a  happy  refuge 
for  a  certain  eminent  person." 

"You  take  it  easy,"  I  said. 

"Why  not?"    Taking  it  hard  won't  recall  a  penny." 

"Then  you  believe  Scott's  story?"  I  asked. 

"I  can't  doubt  it,"  said  he.  After  a  moment  he  con- 
tinued :  "My  affairs  were  the  first  cause  of  their  separ- 
ation and  enmity.  It  would  all  have  been  out,  I  sup- 
pose, had  I  been  home  earlier,  and  had  not  these 
violent  times  come  upon  us.  Scott  has  other  griev- 
ances, too,  more  personal.  Fill  up  my  cup,  Alex. 
Don't  be  so  absorbed.  You  are  spilling  it,  man." 

"What  steps  do  you  intend  taking?"  I  persisted. 

"Steps?  I  don't  know.  I  am  going  for  a  sail  to- 
night. Read  that.  We  were  wondering  last  evening 
how  I  could  get  a  passport.  See,  one  arrives  this  morn- 
ing, "On  His  Majesty's  Service."  I  tell  you,  Alex,  to 
think  of  an  event  is  to  make  it  happen.  Remember 
that,  as  you  go  along." 


THE  DAWN  OF  SUSPICION  2Q 

The  letter  Ralph  handed  me  to  read  ran  as  follows : 

My  Dear  Ralph — I  have  neither  wrote  to  you  nor 
seen  you  as  much  as  I  would  like  of  late,  solely  on  ac- 
count of  our  public  disturbances,  and  the  serious  duties 
that  have  devolved  on  me  in  consequence.  When  I 
was  forced  to  quit  the  city  my  departure  was  necessarily 
hasty,  and  I  could  do  no  more  than  barely  acquaint  you 
of  my  destination,  which  I  did  through  our  good  friend 
Glover,  and  leave  further  news  until  I  was  conveniently 
placed  for  correspondence.  My  condition  is  still  some- 
what constrained,  and  in  the  general  interests  I  serve  I 
have  to  observe  more  than  ordinary  strictness.  There 
are  matters,  nevertheless,  that  we  ought  to  talk  over, 
and  as  the  only  way  open  is  for  you  to  come  to  me, 
won't  you  make  the  attempt,  which  I  am  sure  you  may 
with  perfect  safety?  Signify  to  the  bearer  of  this  that 
you  will  be  ready,  and  at  8  o'clock  to-night  a  boat  will 
be  waiting  you  within  hail  from  the  shore  at  the  foun- 
dry, close  by  Harrison's  brewery.  Four  sharp  whistles 
and  one  a  trifle  longer  will  be  an  understood  signal.  I 
have  many  messages  to  send  to  our  friends,  but  will  re- 
tain these  until  I  see  you;  unless,  indeed,  I  ask  you  now 
to  convey  my  compliments  to  your  aunt,  Mrs.  Heath- 
cote,  whom,  perhaps,  you  may  see  in  the  meantime. 
By  the  way,  I  had  a  few  minutes'  talk  with  Miss  Ruth- 
erford as  she  passed  down  the  bay.  She  is  a  charming 
young  lady,  and  left  with  me  a  message  for  you — you 
rascal.  The  warmest  wishes  and  prayers  ever  attend 
you  of 

Your  affectionate  Whitehead  Hicks. 

"Are  you  going?"  I  asked  dubiously,  as  I  rehanded 
him  the  letter. 

"Why  not?"  he  asked.  "Burdened  with  new  infor- 
mation I  feel  like  making  a  voyage  of  discovery." 


3O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"You  need  much  care,  Ralph,"  I  cautioned.  "You 
are  standing  partly  on  quicksand.  A  false  friend  may 
be  better  than  an  active  enemy  in  days  like  these.  The 
old  securities  are  themselves  uncertain.  Besides,  though 
I  take  -Scott  to  be  truthful  in  the  main,  his  avowed  hos- 
tility may  have  led  him  to  exaggerate." 

"My  dear  Alex,  don't  fear.  I'm  not  going  to  make 
hot  charges.  I  think  I  can  be  a  bit  of  a  diplomat,  if 
needs  be.  At  least  I  shall  try.  By  the  way,  Mr.  Scott 
has  invited  me  to  go  back  home  to  Albany  in  his  com- 
pany and  pay  a  visit  to  his  family.  I  feel  so  much  like 
roaming  just  now  that  I  have  accepted.  What  do  you 
think  of  it?" 

"Great  heavens,  Ralph !  What  restlessness  is  in  you 
these  days?" 

"Don't  ask  me,"  says  he,  with  a  sudden  depression. 

"Ralph,  confess  it — you're  in  love,"  I  said,  rising  and 
putting  my  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"Catrina?"  I  whispered. 

"Tush !"  he  said.  Yet  I  knew  there  was  something 
pleasant  to  him  in  the  sound  of  that  name. 


CHAPTER  V. 
A  TORT  IN  RETREAT. 

THOSE  certainly  were  doleful  days  for  good  Tories. 
New  York  and  the  country  around  contained,  per- 
haps, a  larger  number  of  persons  than  elsewhere,  many 
of  high  eminence,  whose  sympathy  or  interests  went 
with  the  British.  But  they  were  forced  to  pay  dearly, 
in  indignities  and  hardships,  for  allegiance  to  an  un- 
popular cause.  Tory  hunting  was  a  favorite  pastime 
of  an  exuberant  patriotism.  Forced  oaths  of  neutrality 
as  the  price  of  peace  were  exacted  from  the  inoffensive. 
For  the  obnoxious  or  the  hostile  a  coat  of  tar  and 
feathers  and  a  journey  on  a  rail  were  regarded  rather  in 
the  light  of  a  patriotic  levity  than  as  punishment. 

I  confess  I  never  did  take  my  politics  so  hard  as  not 
to  deplore  these  outrages.  A  cause  so  righteous  as  ours 
could,  I  judge,  have  got  along  well  enough  without 
violence  to  individuals.  No  doubt  this  mob  ven- 
geance quieted  a  good  deal  of  active  opposition  on  be- 
half of  the  king.  Indeed,  the  position  of  a  Tory  in  these 
parts,  even  before  the  immediate  days  I  speak  of,  was 
become  almost  an  untenable  one  for  any  but  the  ob- 
scure. Many  had  retired  to  quieter  places  where  the 
political  challenge  was  not  quite  so  insistent,  others 


32  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

had  fled  across  the  sea,  some  sought  such  protection  as 
the  arm  of  England  then  afforded  within  this  country 
itself.  But  since  the  evacuation  of  Boston  this  latter 
asylum  was  confined  almost,  if  not  entirely,  to  the 
decks  of  war  vessels  lying  in  the  harbors.  The  "Asia," 
the  "Duchess  of  Gordon"  and  other  men-of-war  re- 
ceived, I  understand,  numerous  refugees  from  New 
York,  who  subsequently  were  conveyed  to  England  on 
transports  returning  to  the  mother  country.  Others 
holding  high  official  positions  remained  aboard — "tak- 
ing a  little  salt  water  with  their  dignity,"  Reilly  said — 
until  such  time  as  the  puissance  of  Britain  could  assert 
itself  and  restore  them  to  their  forsaken  authority. 
Your  Tory  of  no  matter  what  cause  is  a  cocksure  crea- 
ture, and  surely  no  Tory  ever  was  more  supremely  con- 
fident of  his  alliance  with  Heaven  and  the  inevitable 
order  of  things  on  earth  than  the  American  Tory  of 
these  first  years  of  conflict.  For  him  the  success  of  the 
British  arms  was  calculable  by  arithmetic.  The  failure 
so  far  of  the  British  force  to  make  headway  against  the 
Continental  cause  did  not  shake  in  the  least  his  con- 
fidence. The  legions  had  not  yet  arrived.  Therein  was 
his  comfort. 

In 'retreat  on  board  His  Majesty's  Ship  "Asia," 
Whitehead  Hicks  was  making  these  comforting  cal- 
culations, as  were  other  Tories.  But  in  his  sum  there 
were  many  purely  personal  factors  which  he  added  up 
over  and  over  again  to  be  sure  of  no  error,  as  he  walked 
the  deck,  his  white  jewelled  hands  clasped  behind  his 
back,  gazing  now  over  to  the  picturesque  roofs  of 


A  TORT  IN  RETREAT  33 

Manhattan,  now  out  through  the  Narrows  to  the  sea 
horizon. 

I  must  acknowledge  he  was  a  remarkably  striking 
figure.  He  impressed  me  greatly  (as,  I  believe,  he  did 
everyone  who  came  within  the  circle  of  his  influence) 
with  a  sensation  of  immense  personal  force.  His  stat- 
ure, his  voice,  his  manners  were  alike  large  and  com-, 
manding  By  virtue  of  some  most  positive  quality — per- 
haps his  superlative  egotism.  He  dressed  most  hand- 
somely, which  added  an  appropriate  setting  for  his  mas- 
sive regular  features,  the  striking  character  of  which 
was  strangely  enhanced  by  an  almost  babylike  fineness 
of  skin.  His  hands  were  as  shapely  and  soft  as  a 
woman's,  and  always,  as  many  had  noticed,  of  a  deci- 
ded warmness.  He  was  extravagantly  fond  of  jewelry, 
lace  and  fine  linen.  I  never  saw  him  but  these  parts  of 
his  attire  seemed,  as  it  were,  to  speak  out  to  me  of  an 
immaculate  whiteness  permeating  even  to  the  man's 
fibre.  Withal,  he  was  never  loud,  but  carried  himself, 
his  clothes,  his  manners,  his  jewelry,  with  an  ease  and 
naturalness  that  I  may  justly  characterize  as  superb. 

About  him,  however,  there  was,  despite  a  frankness 
that  frequently  appeared  complete,  a  certain  element 
which  I  think  most  people  at  all  sensitive  to  such  mat- 
ters felt  in  his  presence,  which  I  cannot  better  desig- 
nate than  by  naming  it — something  unknown.  Was 
the  surface  too  highly  polished  to  permit  any  revela- 
tion of  what  was  going  on  within?  Yet  he  could  be 
communicative.  His  knowledge  was  abundant.  His 
opinions  always  carried  a  large  judicial  tone. 


34  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Such  was  the  man  as  he  appeared.  We  who  now 
know  him  to  the  core  are  aware  of  the  ambition  that 
stirred  him,  the  active  side  of  his  intense  egotism — the 
tireless  effort  to  put  a  sharper  edge  to  his  endeavor  to 
cut  his  way  through  the  hard  obstacles  that  stood  be- 
tween him  and  the  power  and  affluence  he  so  ardently 
desired. 

He  started  life  with  neither,  the  son  of  an  English 
clergyman,  Dr.  Egerton  Hicks,  of  aristocratic  descent, 
who  is  well  remembered,  even  to  this  day  in  Virginia, 
as  the  "Bishop  of  Jamestown,"  a  nickname  given  to 
him  on  account  both  of  his  authoritative  manner  in  so- 
ciety and  his  arrogance  in  ecclesiastic  affairs.  The  son 
was  sent  to  college  in  England,  to  Cambridge,  I  think, 
embraced  the  law,  and  years  later,  after  failure  to  es- 
tablish himself  successfully  in  London,  came  to  New 
York.  It  is  said  he  failed  in  the  great  capital,  being  too 
addicted  to  good  company  and  the  courtly  life,  and  be- 
cause of  over-confidence  in  the  favor  of  high  friends. 
Disappointed,  but  not  disheartened,  deeply  in  debt,  he 
fled  to  New  York  as  a  last  resort.  In  so  provincial  sur- 
roundings his  "personal  size"  was  immediately  re- 
vealed. He  had  a  natural  instinct  for  "position" — pub- 
lic visibility — and  soon  cut  a  figure  in  the  highest  life 
of  the  colony.  Esteemed  for  his  elegance  by  his  equals, 
courted  by  his  inferiors  for  his  supposed  reputation 
with  the  lordly  in  England,  he  imposed  himself  wher- 
ever he  would — yet,  if  I  may  say  so,  by  all  he  was  un- 
consciously mistrusted.  Why?  Probably  no  one  ex- 
actly knew. 


A  TORY  IN  RETREAT  35 

By  and  by  his  father  died  leaving  him  some  prop- 
erty. He  promptly  paid  off  at  least  part,  some  persons 
said  all  of  the  debts  he  had  left  behind  in  England.  This 
act  of  honesty  undoubtedly  was  managed  with  some 
publicity,  yet  not  everybody  was  convinced  by  it.  He 
conformed  strictly  to  all  religious  usages  without  ever 
being  esteemed  devout.  He  drank  with  the  best,  and 
yet  was  never  in  their  eyes  a  good  fellow.  He  talked 
learnedly,  but  men  like  Mr.  Alexander  and  Judge 
Smith  declared  him  shallow.  He  courted  the  power- 
ful and  wealthy  with  splendid  indifference  and  with 
crafty  persistence,  yet  he  never  won  their  favor  to  the 
point  of  benefits.  Lieutenant-Governor  Golden  un- 
doubtedly used  Hicks's  abilities  to  build  up  his  own  for- 
tunes, and  dodged  payment  in  kind.  Sir  Henry  Moore, 
when  governor,  as  well  as  the  Earl  of  Dunmore,  his 
successor,  shared  Mr.  Hicks's  company  freely,  and  then 
preferred  men  with  whom  they  had  been  very  much  less 
familiar.  Indeed,  the  only  close  friend  he  ever  had,  as 
far  as  I  know,  was  Ralph's  father,  Livingston  Tennant, 
and  in  this  case  surely  the  friendship  was  entirely  one- 
sided. Livingston  Tennant  believed  in  the  man,  and 
proved  it,  when  dying,  by  entrusting  to  him,  as  guar- 
dian and  trustee  for  his  only  son,  the  management  of 
his  large  sugar  houses,  his  shipping  business  and  his 
considerable  possessions  in  land. 

William  Tryon  was  then  Governor,  being  newly  ar- 
rived, July  9,  1771.  Whitehead  Hicks,  by  this  time 
facing  the  downward  years  of  life,  made  an  effort  that 
no  doubt  had  something  of  the  desperate  in  it,  to  reach 


36  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

the  success  for  which  he  so  long  had  striven.  At  this 
particular  moment  he  was  better  prepared  for  the  strug- 
gle than  he  had  ever  been.  Due  to  the  elder  Tennant's 
confidence  he  now  occupied,  for  the  first  time,  a  sub- 
stantial position  in  the  life  of  the  colony.  For  the  time 
being  he  had  power  over  if  he  did  not  actually  possess 
wealth.  He  formed  a  partnership  with  Judge  Scott, 
partly,  no  doubt,  for  the  sake  of  additional  prestige, 
Scott  being  one  of  the  most  distinguished  men  then  at 
the  bar,  and  partly,  some  said  afterward,  to  cover  his 
future  operations.  He  took  for  himself  and  Ralph  an 
imposing  house  on  Broad  street.  He  dressed,  it  was 
noticed,  even  more  luxurious  than 'ever.  He  enter- 
tained sumptuously.  The  Governor  and  his  suite  as 
well  as  the  officers  of  the  garrison,  were  constantly 
with  him.  'Tis  said  he  gambled  freely  with  the  best 
born  among  the  latter.  He  opened  communication 
with  his  old  friends  in  England,  particularly  Lord 
Mansfield,  and  while  Ralph  was  there  visited  that  coun- 
try. Then,  finally — for  Fortune  will  reward  the  hard 
suitor  for  her  favors — he  was  appointed  member  of  His 
Majesty's  council  and  judge.  But — there  is  some  pity 
in  it — to  the  last  the  goddess  was  fickle  with  him.  The 
offices  were  obtained  at  the  very  outbreak  of  hostilities 
between  the  mother  country  and  the  colonies,  and  the 
positions  were,  therefore,  empty  ones.  'Tis  said  he  got 
them  because,  under  the  circumstances,  they  were  nom- 
inal. Certainly  before  he  had  possessed  himself  of  them 
he  and  his  patron,  Tryon,  were  forced  to  flee  to  the 
king's  warships. 


A  TORT  IN  RETREAT  37 

Aboard  the  "Asia"  he  was  necessarily  an  idler.  This 
enforced  leisure  gave  him  time  to  plan  splendidly.  Had 
he  been  less  keen,  less  fearful  of  being  his  own  dupe,  he 
would  have  allowed  himself  the  luxury  of  feeling 
sure  of  success.  Could  he  not  indeed  feel  it  at 
his  finger  tips?  His  appointments — snatched,  'tis  true, 
from  the  debris  of  British  rule — were  for  the  moment  of 
little  more  value  than  drafts  upon  an  extinct  banking 
house;  but  might  he  not  be  certain  that  the  might  of 
England  would  triumph  by  and  by,  and  make  them 
good?  What  could  defeat  him  this  time? 

Repeatedly  he  analyzed  the  situation,  aching  to  dis- 
cover its  weakness,  desiring  rather  to  face  it  now,  when 
preparation  was  possible,  than  hereafter,  when  dis- 
appointment would  be  crushing. 

"Damn  it,  the  ground  seems  firm,"  he  would  say  to 
himself.  "Yet,  if  not?  Ugh!  I  am  too  deep  in  it  with 
Ralph,  and  worse  luck,  must  go  further.  Why  does  a 
brat  like  that  possess" — he  paused  in  his  thoughts  and 
smiled  as  he  added — "possess  what  I  have  to  spend? 
Certainly  there  might  easily  be  nasty  trouble  there. 
Still,  he  knows  nothing.  This  forced  flight  of  mine, 
by  gad !  came  in  the  nick  of  time.  They  say  the  devil's 
children  have  their  father's  luck.  One  year — that's  all 
I  need.  Catrina's  safe — for  a  time.  I  was  lucky  nip- 
ping that  in  the  bud.  Her  fancy  for  Ralph  might  easily 
become  something  closer  to  the  heart.  Youth  is  a 
quick  soil.  Still- 
He  smiled  again,  extended  his  white  right  hand, 
making  the  rings  sparkle  in  the  sunlight. 


38  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"They  say,"  he  continued,  "a  young  girl  prefers  ma- 
turity, and" — gazing  at  his  shapely  silk  hose — "egad, 
this  is  maturity." 

He  arose,  stretched  back  his  shoulders  and  inhaled 
deeply. 

"I  never  felt  younger.  Pshaw,  I  shall  win  there,  too !" 

Despite  this  mental  manoeuvring  it  was  something 
of  a  shock  to  Whitehead  Hicks  to  hear  from  Lord  Per- 
cy of  Ralph's  part  in  the  episode  in  the  city  tavern. 

"Who  did  you  say  seized  you?"  he  asked,  rousing 
himself. 

"A  fellow  named  Tennant,"  replied  Percy,  "a  good- 
looking  chap.  Do  you  know  him?" 

"There  are  few  persons  over  there  not  known  to  me," 
was  the  cautious  answer.  The  speaker  was  inwardly 
saying : 

"Can  Ralph  be  such  a  hot-headed  fool?  At  least 
why  not  remain  neutral;  that  is  the  safe  course  for  him. 
Besides,  a  hostile  alliance  with  rebels,  going  so  far  as  to 
do  public  violence  to  friends  of  mine  whose  good  will 
I  need,  compromises  me!  The  fool  should  know  bet- 
ter." 

Moreover,  the  possibility  that  Ralph  was  intimate 
with  Isaac  Scott  alarmed  him.  How  far  was  the  ac- 
quaintance gone?  Was  he,  Hicks,  after  all  living  in  a 
fool's  paradise?  He  must  find  out. 


CHAPTER    VI 
THE  FIRST  INTERVIEW  ON  THE  "ASIA." 

TOWARD  8  o'clock  that  evening  Ralph  slipped  away 
from  my  lodgings  and  made  for  his  rendezvous  on  the 
river  shore,  near  the  foundry.  The  night  was  not  en- 
tirely propitious  for  an  expedition  of  the  sort  he  was 
undertaking,  being  clear  and  starlit.  After  a  brisk 
walk  along  Broadway,  thence  past  Vauxhall  and  along 
the  road  to  Greenwich,  he  arrived  at  his  destination.  In 
the  neighborhood  of  his  trysting  place  a  little  boy 
wished  him  good-night  and  went  away  humming  along 
the  country  lane,  but  no  one  else  met  him.  The  moon 
was  in  the  first  quarter.  Its  faint  cold  light  shim- 
mered like  sparkling  iridescence  on  the  water  rippled 
by  a  fresh  northwest  wind.  When  sure  of  being  unno- 
ticed Ralph  crept  down  to  the  beach.  For  some  mo- 
ments he  scanned  the  river.  Not  a  living  thing  was  vis- 
ible, nothing  but  the  flowing  tide  and  a  few  lights 
twinkling  at  Paulus  Hook  and  Habuck  on  the  far  shore. 
He  listened.  There  was  no  sound  save  water  lapping 
the  pebbles  and  the  hum  in  his  ears  of  the  whistling 
breeze.  The  scene  was  lonely,  and  exhilarating. 

Had  the  appointment  miscarried?  Ralph  turned  and 
looked  down  the  stream.  In  the  bay  the  faint  silver 
reflection  of  the  moon  stretched  out  through  the  Nar- 


4O  THE    HEART    OF    WOMAN 

rows  to  the  dark  horizon.  Not  a  speck  on  the  water  in- 
dicated a  boat.  As  he  watched,  the  soft  irresistible  far 
away  spell  of  the  sea  rilled  him.  He  put  his  hands  to 
his  lips  trumpetwise  and  whistled.  The  signal  startled 
him;  made  his  blood  tingle.  He  fancied  some  one  was 
creeping  up  behind  him.  He  even  turned  around 
sharply.  Nothing.  He  patched  the  river  again,  and 
after  a  moment  discerned  a  boat  approaching  from  the 
north,  out  of  the  deeper  purple  of  the  centre  of  the 
stream.  It  was  manned  by  four  sailors  and  a  young 
petty  officer.  It  moved  rapidly,  dancing  on  the  waves. 

"Your  name?"  asked  the  officer  as  the  keel  grounded 
at  Ralph's  feet. 

"Tennant,"  replied  Ralph  quickly. 

"Jump  in,  sir." 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  as  they  slipped  down  with 
the  tide  past  the  quiet  city.  Ralph  noted  each  familiar 
landmark  as  it  glided  by,  and  off  the  point  of  the  island 
wondered  where  that  other  voyager  was  now  who  so 
recently  had  hailed  it  in  passing. 

Evidently  he  was  desired  not  to  speak.  He  had  no 
inclination.  His  thoughts  were  weaving  themselves 
with  rare  subtlety  into  the  moving  scene,  and  the  jour- 
ney every  minute  became  more  and  more  like  a  pas- 
sage in  a  dream.  All  the  more  like  a  dream  was  it  when 
by  and  by,  after  a  long  pull,  the  dark  hull  of  the  "Asia" 
towered  before  him  with  its  huge  black  spars  and  in- 
tricate web  of  rigging  against  the  faint  moonlit  sky. 

A  perfect  silence  reigned  on  shipboard.  Lights  in 
one  or  two  of  the  portholes  were  the  only  signs  of  life 


THE  FIRST  INTERVIEW  ON  THE  "ASIA"  4! 

visible  to  one  on  the  water.  The  challenge  of  a  sentry 
as  the  boat  neared  the  vessel  and  the  young  officer's 
cheery  answer  died  away  in  pleasant  echoes. 

Ralph  clambered  up  the  mountainous  side  of  the 
"Asia"  in  a  lubberly  way  and  found  himself  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  on  the  deck  of  a  man-of-war.  But  for 
the  sentry  who  received  him  it  might  have  been  a  long 
abandoned  derelict.  THat  was  his  first  impression.  As 
he  looked  about  him  rapidly  he  saw  light  from  a  cabin 
in  the  quarter-deck  streaming  through  an  open  door. 
Within  at  a  table  covered  with  a  red  cloth  under  a  lamp 
sat  Mr.  Hicks  and  Lord  Percy.  They  were  playing 
cards. 

"This  last  trick  decides'  it,"  Percy  broke  out,  "I  get 
it!" 

The  silence  was  complete.  Ralph  could  hear  dis- 
tinctly. 

"No,  no,"  protested  Hicks.     "You  are  too  sure." 

"Come,"  said  the  other,  turning  down  the  face  of  his 
cards.  "How  do  we  stand  so  far?" 

"Too  far  apart  to  quite  please  me,"  said  Hicks, 
laughing.  "A  matter  of  some  £900, 1  believe." 

"Double  or  quits  I  take  this  trick.  Can  I  tempt  your 
courage?" 

"You  can  tempt  it,  but  not  taunt  it,"  said  Hicks, 
calmly  scrutinizing  his  cards.  "I  accept." 

Percy  turned  his  cards  face  upward. 

"Can  you  beat  that?"  he  cried  triumphantly. 

"Egad,  no !"  exclaimed  Hicks.  "It  makes  me  think 
more  of  your  luck,  Percy,  than  your  pluck." 


42  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

An  officer  who  had  accosted  Ralph  the  moment  of 
the  latter' s  presence  on  deck  now  entered  the  stream  of 
lamplight  and  stood  in  the  cabin  doorway  to  announce 
Ralph's  arrival. 

"Oh,  is  that  so?"  said  Hicks  nonchalantly. 

"Tennant!"  exclaimed  Percy  upon  hearing  Ralph's 
name.  "My  violent  young  friend  of  last  night?" 

"The  same,  I  believe,"  said  Hicks,  putting  away  the 
cards  in  a  drawer.  "I  have  a  little  authority  with  him. 
In  future  he  shall  show  more  courtesy  to  my  friends 
when  on  shore." 

"Hicks,  you  astonish  me,  I  swear;  your  lines  of  com- 
munication are  everywhere." 

"I  have  lived  in  these  parts,  you  see,"  said  Hicks  non- 
chalantly. 

"Gad !  If  we  were  all  like  you  there'd  be  less  of  our 
damned  blundering." 

"You  flatter  outrageously,'"'  Hicks  was  saying  as  the 
officer  arrived  with  the  visitor. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Tennant!"  exclaimed  Hicks,  turning 
around  and  facing  Ralph.  "I'm  pleased  you  were  able 
to  keep  my  appointment." 

He  extended  his  hand,  but  his  manner  was  markedly 
distant. 

"I  understand  you  have  already  met  Lord  Percy," 
he  said;  watching  Ralph. 

"The  introduction  was  in  a  measure  forced,"  said 
Ralph,  nettled  a  little  by  his  cold  reception.  "Possibly 
Lord  Percy  would  prefer  we  remain  strangers." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Percy  quickly,  with  something  of 


THE  FIRST  INTERVIEW  ON  THE  "ASIA"  43 

geniality,  "now  that  I  have  time  to  do  full  justice  to  the 
acquaintance." 

"You  were  certainly  pressed  a  little  last  evening," 
said  Ralph  smiling,  "I  am  glad  you  managed  so  well. 
Faith,  that  was  a  nasty  crew  at  your  heels." 

"His  lordship  undoubtedly  feels  very  grateful  for  the 
assistance  you  rendered  him,"  said  Hicks,  slowly. 

"I  can  hardly  imagine  so,"  said  Ralph  sharply,  an- 
noyed by  his  guardian's  manner.  "Nevertheless  there 
are  reasons  why  he  should." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Percy,  "I  was  the  prime  offend- 
er. That  was  a  silly  affair,  Mr.  Tennant.  A  man  who 
can't  hold  his  tongue  at  the  right  moment  oughn't  to 
talk  afterward." 

"Your  silence  now,"  said  Ralph,  "has  something 
more  than  philosophy  in  it." 

"I  am  glad  you  take  it  so,"  Percy  said,  lightly. 
"Good-night.  I'll  leave  you  and  Mr.  Hicks  to  finish 
your  business  together." 

With  a  pleasant  bow  to  both  he  departed. 

Instantly  Hicks's  manner  changed. 

"Sit  down,  my  boy,"  he  said,  pointing  to  a  chair. 
"How  are  you?  It's  some  time  since  we  met." 

"But  once  or  twice,"  said  Ralph,  dryly,  "since  my 
return  from  England." 

"Gad!  that  is  so.  Well,  I've  been  most  terribly 
pressed,  as  you  can  understand." 

"I'm  sorry  I  just  missed  you  so  often  at  my  aunt's," 
said  Ralph,  regarding  him  intently,  "and  also  in  Eng- 
land." 


44  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

It  was  the  first  note  of  challenge.  A  quick,  scarcely 
perceptible  frown  passed  over  Hicks's  face. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  lazily  crossing  his  legs.  "It  was  un- 
fortunate, though,  of  course,  I  can't  tell  how  often  I 
lost  my  opportunity  at  Mrs.  Heathcote's.  In  England 
is  was  absolutely  necessary  that  I  should  be  quite  in- 
cognito." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Ralph,  "I  ought  still  to  be  ignorant." 

"Oh,  no,"  he  replied  quickly,  "the  knowledge  is 
harmless." 

"I'm  glad  you  say  that,"  said  Ralph,  "because  I  find 
so  many  possess  it." 

"You  don't  say  so?  You  surprise  me,  indeed.  Still 
so  many  things  are  happening  that  an  unfortunate  ex- 
ile like  myself  must  be  ignorant  of.  For  instance,"  he 
continued,  crossing  his  arms  on  the  table  and  leaning 
forward,  "it  was  by  the  merest  accident  that  I  learned 
my  young  friend  had  joined  His  Majesty's  enemies. 
I  must  say  had  I  been  consulted  I  would  not  have  ad- 
vised that  step.  It  surprises  me.  It  even  injures  me — 
if  that  is  to  be  considered."  He  raised  his  voice  as  he 
uttered  the  last  words. 

Hicks's  cool,  superior  tone  irritated  Ralph. 

"Admitting,"  says  Ralph,  a  trifle  hotly,  "the  full  ex- 
actness of  your  information,  I  can't  exactly  see  how 
any  act  of  mine  reflects  on  you." 

"Come,  come,"  said  Hicks,  familiarly,  throwing  him- 
self back  in  his  chair  and  running  his  thumbs  into 
the  armholes  of  his  finely  embroidered  vest,  "these 
are  jealous  days.  One  in  my  position  is  easily  af- 


THE  FIRST  INTERVIEW  ON  THE  "ASIA"  45 

fected  by  his  known  alliances.  They  must  be  above 
suspicion." 

"If  the  duties  you  were  good  enough  to  undertake 
for  my  father  expose  you  to  any  suspicion  now  it  is  be- 
cause you  have  preferred  not  to  terminate  them,"  said 
Ralph. 

"Eh?"  said  Hicks,  frowning,  "I- 

He  paused,  arose  and  closed  the  open  door  of  the 
cabin. 

"Then  I  take  it  you  are  no  rebel,  Ralph?  I  was  but 
half  joking,"  he  said  cheerily,  as  he  reseated  himself. 

"No,  indeed,"  said  Ralph,  watching  him  curiously. 
"Yet  I'm  a  poor  Tory." 

"Well,"  he  said,  in  the  easiest  possible  tone,  "what 
does  it  matter?  After  all,  your  situation  differs  vastly 
from  mine.  To  be  frank,  I  am  far  from  saying  caution 
is  not  the  better  part  for  you.  You  see,  your  property 
and  interests  are  all  local,  and  between  ourselves, 
Ralph,"  he  added,  pursing  his  lips  and  looking  serious, 
"the  Continentals  have  greater  strength,  in  many  ways, 
than  it  does  for  us  to  admit." 

"It  isn't  a  matter  of  policy  with  me,"  interposed 
Ralph. 

"No !  No,  to  be  sure,  I  understand — partly  inclina- 
tion. Gad !  I  don't  know  if  I  were  a  younger  man  but 
I  would  stand  elsewhere." 

"You  don't  understand  me,"  persisted  Ralph.  "I  am 
really  of  neither  side." 

"Pre-cisely.  I  think  it  wise.  There  is  no  saying  how 
things  will  run.  But  there,  I  know  you  don't  need  my 


46  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

advice  for  I  hear,"  he  added,  quickly,  "you  stand  re- 
markably well  with  the  Whigs  yonder.  And  you  have 
given  no  pledges?  Tis  clever,  Ralph,  immensely  clever, 
egad!" 

He  laid  back  in  his  chair  and  chuckled. 

"Really,  you  have  more  news  than  I  have,"  said 
Ralph,  wondering  at  the  man. 

"Come,  don't  disappoint  me.  Am  I  not  right?  You 
are  friendly  with  old  Putnam,  Washington,  Reilly  and 
— er— Scott?" 

As  he  said  this  Ralph  observed  how  intently  he  was 
watched. 

"I  know  only  the  latter,"  said  Ralph,  throwing  back 
the  ball.  Not  a  muscle  betrayed  the  man. 

"Intimately?"  he  asked,  nonchalantly. 

"There  are  degrees.  I  should  say  not  intimately 
yet." 

Ralph  maliciously  added : 

"But  he  has  been  good  enough  to  invite  me  to  his 
home  at  Albany." 

"Really?  They  say  we  never  know  a  man  till  we 
have  met  him  amidst  his  own  surroundings.  When 
do  you  go?" 

"At  the  end  of  this  week,"  said  Ralph. 

"So  soon !"  he  exclaimed,  like  one  calculating.  "Well, 
well.  I  wish  you  a  pleasant  trip.  Will  you  be  long 
away?" 

"The  visit  is  unconditional,"  said  Ralph. 

"Exactly  so,"  he  said  in  a  musing  way.  "Then  I 
shan't  see  you  for  a  little  time?" 


THE  FIRST  INTERVIEW  ON  THE  "ASIA"  47 

"Possibly  not,"  replied  Ralph.  "Partly  for  that  rea- 
son, and  partly  because  our  roads  must  necessarily  run 
somewhat  apart  for  a  time,  it  occurs  to  me  I  ought  not 
to  trespass  on  your  indulgence  longer,  but  propose  to 
relieve  you  of  duties  I  ought  to  have  assumed  myself 
long  ago,  and  which  must  be  particularly  hard  on  you 
now.  Besides,  what  you  said  a  moment  ago  warns  me 
I  oughtn't  to  put  your  kindness  to  further  risk." 

"What  did  I  say  a  moment  ago?"  he  asked  sharply. 

"Political  misconduct  of  mine  reflected  on  you." 

"Yes,  to  be  sure." 

He  arose  and  walked  to  the  cabin  window.  Turn- 
ing around,  he  added : 

"Well,  my  boy,  I  needn't  tell  you  I'm  not  a  bit  sorry 
if  you  are  ready  to  take  over  your  estate.  I  confess  I 
expected  it  sooner.  It  has  been,  you  can  understand, 
something  of  a  burden  and  anxiety  to  me,  though  the 
service,  such  as  it  has  been,  was  a  willing  one,  for  my 
old  friend's  sake — and  for  yours,  too." 

Ralph  hesitated,  struggling  to  reply  to  this  speech 
in  kind,  but  the  effort  was  beyond  him.  The  play  was 
of  too  high  an  order;  so  high,  indeed,  that  for  a  mo- 
ment he  found  himself  questioning  his  own  suspicions. 
All  he  could  bring  himself  to  say  was : 

"When  can  we  settle  the  matter?" 

"Oh !  at  any  time,"  said  Hicks,  with  unbounded 
readiness.  "There  are,  of  course,  necessary  prelimin- 
aries to  be  gone  through  with,  you  know.  I  fear  they 
can't  be  done  quite  so  quickly,  me  aboard  ship,  as  were 
I  on  shore.  But,  even  as  it  is,  they  needn't  take  long," 


48  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

he  added.  "I  will  see  Tyndall  and  get  matters  in  proper' 
shape  as  soon  as  possible — perhaps  by  the  time  you  re- 
turn. Eh?" 

"That  will  be  soon  enough,"  said  Ralph,  utterly  sur- 
prised at  the  turn  matters  had  taken. 

"Can't  be  done  too  soon,  my  boy — now  you  are 
ready,"  he  said  cheerfully.  "I  suppose  you  will  con- 
tinue where  your  father  and — may  I  say? — myself  left 
off?" 

"I  intend  to,"  replied  Ralph  slowly. 

"Good !"  he  cried  enthusiastically,  "How  that  would 
delight  the  old  gentleman !  Dear  me,  I  always  advised 
him  not  to  force  your  hand  when  he  was  all  for  pres- 
sing you,  and  here  you  are  of  your  own  election  doing 
as  he  would  have  dictated.  Well,  you  see,  Ralph,  there 
is  something  besides  force  governing  the  world.  When 
do  you  say  you  leave?"  he  asked.  He  was  pacing  the 
cabin,  his  hands  tucked  under  his  scarlet  coat. 

"Friday  or  Saturday,  I  believe,"  said  Ralph,  watch- 
ing him  as  he  walked  to  and  fro. 

"Saturday,"  he  said,  more  to  himself  than  to  Ralph. 
Then  he  added,  quickly: 

"Don't  you  find  the  cabin  close?  Stuffy  cupboards 
these !  Let  us  walk  outside." 

Ralph  followed  him  to  the  deck. 

"Beautiful  night,  isn't  it?"  he  exclaimed,  scanning 
the  heavens.  "I  hope  Miss  Rutherford  is  finding 
weather  like  this." 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Ralph,  feeling  his  heart  take  a  sud- 
den jump. 


THE  FIRST  INTERVIEW  ON  THE  "ASIA"  49 

"I  fancy  she  has  a  warm  spot  in  her  heart  for  you," 
he  said,  linking  his  arm  in  Ralph's. 

"As  an  old  friend  of  hers,  I  hope  so." 

"Oh,  quite  so.  I  meant  in  that  way,"  he  said  sober- 
ly. "Really  I  think  her  affection  leans But  there, 

I  must  be  discreet.  That's  a  secret,  sir."  As  he  said 
this  he  fell  to  whistling. 

"You  said  she  left  a  message  for  me?" 

"Did  I?  Oh,  yes.  Another  good-by;  that  was  all. 
She  seems  to  see  little  prospect  of  returning.  I'm  sorry 
to  think  we  have  seen  perhaps  the  last  of  her  for  years. 
Pleasant  girl." 

"What  makes  you  think  that?"  asked  Ralph  quick- 
ly, perplexed  alike  by  Hicks's  manner  and  utterances. 

"Ah,  did  you  see  that  star  fall?"  he  cried,  pointing  to 
the  west.  "Why  do  I  think  so?  Because  I  judge  some 
Virginian  cavalier  will  plant  so  fair  a  tulip  in  his  own 
garden,  and  it  will  take  root  there,  notwithstanding — 
well,  the  little  affair  I  hinted  of.  Women  are  fickle, 
Ralph;  none  more  so  than  the  young." 

Despite  himself  Ralph  felt  he  had  received  a  heavy 
dose  of  cold  water. 

An  officer  approached  Mr.  Hicks  and  suggested  it 
was  time  for  the  visitor  to  be  making  his  way  back  to 
the  city  if  he  desired  to  reach  shore  that  night. 

"To  be  sure,"  said  Hicks.  "I  mustn't  keep  you, 
Ralph;  I  am  responsible  for  your  safe  return.  I  hope 
you'll  have  a  pleasant  trip  to  Albany,  my  boy,  and  when 
you  get  back — I'll  be  ready  for  you." 

When  Ralph  was  safely  in  the  rowboat    again    he 


5<D  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

looked  up.  He  saw  Hicks  leaning  over  the  black  bul- 
warks gazing  down  upon  him.  As  the  sailors  pushed 
off  he  heard  his  voice  above  calling: 

"Ralph,  I  may  ask  you  to  take  a  note  or  two  for  me 
to  friends  in  Albany.  Will  you?" 

"Gladly,"  Ralph    cried  back. 

The  picture  of  that  moment  was  never  forgotten. 


CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  SECOND  INTERVIEW  ON  THE  "ASIA." 

* 

RALPH  was  scarcely  beyond  hail  when  Hicks  turned 
away  from  the  bulwarks  and  walked  quickly  to  the 
cabin.  At  the  threshold  he  arrested  his  steps  as  sharp- 
ly as  he  had  started.  Then  he  paced  the  deck  slowly 
for  a  time  in  deep  contemplation.  At  last  he  exclaimed, 
striking  his  thigh  loudly : 

"By  Jove!" 

Calling  a  sailor  he  said : 

"Tom !  Ask  Mr.  Brant  please  to  come  to  me  for  a 
few  minutes." 

He  re-entered  the  cabin,  seated  himself,  and  with 
one  of  his  fine  white  fingers  as  a  pointer  began  to  trace 
over  the  intricate  pattern  in  the  tablecloth. 

"Damn  me!"  he  mused,  "I  swear,  too  much  thinking 
is  like  that  design.  You  can  go  on  tracing  it  forever. 
It  starts  and  ends  nowhere.  You  must  break  it  to  have 
a  beginning,"  he  cried,  throwing  himself  back  in  his 
chair.  "Hallo,  Brant!  Take  a  chair.  Close  the  door 
first,  will  you?  Thanks." 

A  tall,  bronzed-skinned,  dark-haired  man  entered. 
He  was  lithe  and  boney.  His  manner  had  a  marked  air 
of  repression.  He  was  dressed  in  fashion  and  with 


52  THE    HEART    OF    WOMAN 

some  elegance.  Yet  despite  his  appearance  and  man- 
ner, his  pleasant  and  smiling  dark  eyes  and  genial  coun- 
tenance, he  was  unmistakably  Indian.  He  spoke  ex- 
cellently well  in  a  voice  of  most  agreeable  tone. 

He  seated  himself  in  the  chair  Ralph  had  occupied 
and  waited  for  Hicks  to  speak. 

"I  find  our  affairs,"  began  the  latter  with  great  delib- 
eration, "are  moving  more  rapidly  than  I  anticipated." 

The  Indian  arched  his  eyebrows  interrogatively,  but 
said  nothing. 

"I  learn,"  continued  Hicks,  "that  our  good  friends 
in  Tryon  County,  Sir  John  Johnson,  Col.  Guy  Johnson, 

Mr.  Butler  and  your  sister  Miss  Molly  are  in  some 

danger." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Brant  quickly.  "What  have  you 
heard?" 

"That  fellow  Schuyler  has  concluded  to  secure  John- 
son. He's  arranging  to  send  a  Col.  Dayton — do  you 
know  him? — with  a  force  to  Johnson  Hall  to  arrest  Sir 
Johnson,  and,  of  course,  whoever  else  they  can  lay 
hands  on.  We  must  get  word  to  Johnson  as  soon  as 
possible." 

"Undoubtedly.    Have  we  time?"  asked  Brant. 

"Plenty.  We  are  forewarned.  The  talk  is  to  move 
a  fortnight  hence." 

"It  would  be  prudent  to  count  on  a  shorter  time," 
said  Brant  thoughtfully. 

"Good;  yet  we  can  meet  them." 

"Yes,"  assented  the  Indian,  "we  can  move  quickly." 

"My  friend  can,  I  know,"  said  Hicks,  patronizingly. 


THE  SECOND  INTERVIEW  ON  THE  "ASIA"  53 

Brant  smiled.  "Still,"  he  said,  "the  enemy  may  move 
as  quickly." 

"I  doubt  it,"  said  Hicks,  positively.  "My  informa- 
tion is  from  the  highest  authority." 

"Gen.  Schuyler  himself?"  asked  the  Indian. 

"Oh,  we  are  not  friends.  I'm  not  in  the  General's 
confidence,"  replied  Hicks,  laughing. 

"Nof  directly,"  said  Brant  shortly.  "But  the  ground 
has  ears." 

"His  Majesty's  arm  is  far-reaching.  Those  blather- 
ing shirt  men  up  there  will  find  it  to  their  cost." 

Hicks's  bravado  did  not  stir  the  Indian.  He  closed 
his  eyes  momentarily,  as  though  it  annoyed  him. 

"Johnson,  of  course,  is  armed  and  ready?"  asked 
Hicks. 

"After  his  parole?"  Brant  asked,  affecting  his  aston- 
ishment. 

"Damn  paroles  in  days  like  these!  No  one  is 
obliged  even  in  honor,  to  abide  by  a  forced  oath." 

"I  don't  think,"  said  the  Indian  slyly,  "Sir  Johnson's 
conscience  requires  that  excuse." 

"A  gentleman,  Brant,  never  needs  excuses,"  said 
Hicks,  grandiloquently. 

"True,"  said  the  Indian  softly,  "he  assumes  them." 

"Damn  me,  Brant,  but  I  never  know  exactly  whether 
you  are  smiling." 

"You  always  find  me  at  your  side,"  said  the  Indian. 

"True,  true,  Brant,"  said  Hicks.  "When  these 
troubles  are  over  the  King  will  make  good  my  promises 
to  you." 


54  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

This  speech  pleased  the  Indian.     He  smiled. 

"Well,"  he  said,  after  a  moment,  "I  must  be  prepar- 
ing to  start.  To-morrow  is  not  too  soon." 

"No,"  said  Hicks,  decisively.  "There  are  reasons  for 
delay. 

"Delay?"  exclaimed  the  Indian  in  amazement,  "and 
two  hundred  miles  to  travel !" 

"I  know.  You  must  wait  until — well,  perhaps  un- 
til Saturday." 

"Two  days !"  cried  Brant,  jumping  up. 

"Two  weeks  if  it  must  be,"  said  Hicks  loudly  rising 
as  he  spoke. 

"May  I  inquire  the  reason?"  asked  the  Indian  quietly. 

"I  will  tell  you.  Sit  down.  Good !  Now  listen.  I 
have  more  important  duty  for  you  to  perform  for  His 
Majesty  than  even  the  protection  of  my  friend,  John- 
son." 

"And  my  sister?"  added  the  Indian,  laconically. 

"And  your  sister,"  repeated  Hicks. 

"Proceed,  pray,"  said  the  Indian;  "you  interest  me." 

"I  expect  to,"  said  Hicks,  calmly.  "In  the  morning 
I  will  give  you  a  letter  addressed  to  Sir  Johnson.  I  will 
ask  you  to  do  me  the  kindness  to  cause  it  to  be  deliv- 
ered, but  not  on  any  account  to  deliver  it  yourself,  to 
a  person  named  Ralph  Tennant  now  in  New  York.  I 
want  you,  unobserved,  to  acquaint  yourself  with  that 
individual.  My  information  is  that  either  on  Friday  or 
Saturday  he  will  set  out  for  Albany  with  an  elderly 
gentleman  named  Isaac  Scott.  Discover  the  route  they 
travel.  Meet  them,  by  accident  naturally,  on  the  road. 


THE  SECOND  INTERVIEW  ON  THE  "ASIA"  55 

Accompany  them  if  you  can.  Never  lose  sight  of  them, 
cost  what  it  may,  until  the  bearer  of  that  letter  deposits 
it  in  Sir  Johnson's  hands.  These  two  persons,  I  may 
tell  you,  are  most  dangerous — most  dangerous — to  His 
Majesty's  cause  in  these  parts.  In  my  letter  I  will  ex- 
plain the  matter  to  Sir  Johnson  and  will  request  him  to 
see  that  the  young  man  certainly,  the  old  man  if  possi- 
ble, are — detained  for  a  time  in  the  North.  Perhaps 
you  can  aid  Sir  Johnson.  If  you  can,  you  will  do  me — 
that  is,  the  government — a  great  service.  I  would  like 
you  in  secret  to  feel  this  is  a  commission  for  you  as 
much  as  for  Sir  Johnson.  Can  I  count  on  you?" 

"Until  when  are  they  to  be  detained?"  asked  the  In- 
dian. 

"Until  His  Majesty's  power  is  re-established  in  New 
York.  I  will  let  you  know.  Again,  can  I  count  on 
you?" 

"Have.  I  ever  failed  you?"  asked  Brant. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
THE  JOURNET  TO  THE  M4NSE. 

ISAAC  SCOTT'S  interest  in  the  fierce  politics  of  the  hour 
was  intense.  Undoubtedly  he  was  an  ardent  patriot. 
He  had  been  bred  in  the  good  New  England  school 
where  opinions  naturally  take  the  form  of  prejudices, 
and  thought  requires  its  enemy  somewhere.  I  have 
always  fancied  the  mental  process  of  the  people  of 
those  eastern  colonies  was  never  quite  a  satisfactory 
one  to  them  until  it  hit  something.  In  this  New  Eng- 
land spirit,  Isaac  Scott  espoused  the  patriot  cause.  Pos- 
sessing the  vanity  of  speech  he  loved  to  occupy  as  much 
as  possible  the  public  stage  provided  for  him  by  the 
struggle.  He  fondly  believed  he  was  one  of  the  great 
actors  on  it.  He  deluded  himself  that  he  was  making 
great  sacrifices  for  his  country.  He  liked  the  idea  that 
he  was  running  the  most  heroic  risks.  He  recounted 
to  his  family  every  indignity  perpetrated  by  the  Tories 
upon  patriots,  as  a  sly  vicarious  proof  of  the  sympathy 
he  himself  merited.  I  am  sure  there  were  moments 
when  he  was  the  object  of  his  own  profound  pity.  His 
enthusiasm  convinced  him  he  would  welcome,  if  needs 
be,  any  British  stake  that  was  entirely  free  from  the 
danger  of  fire.  With  it  all  I  doubt  not  he  was  enor- 
mously happy — talkative,  excited,  officious.  He 


THE  JOURNEY  TO  THE  MANSE.  57 

worked  and  bubbled,  was  indeed  one  of  the  light  por- 
tions of  the  bloody  fermentation  of  the  times.  Wisdom 
and  humanity  usually  obtain  only  a  limited  scope  in  all 
great  popular  uprisings.  I  thank  Heaven  my  coun- 
trymen exhibited  so  much  of  these  higher  qualities  in 
their  bitter  conflict  for  their  rights.  But  I  who  passed 
throughjt  all  cannot  be  blind  to  the  fact  that  our  think- 
ing was  not  always  as  large  as  our  aspirations,  nor  our 
hands  as  clean  as  our  initial  motives. 

These  remarks  are  intended  to  explain  why  Isaac 
Scott  was  not  ready  to  set  out  for  home  until  the  last 
moment.  He  lingered,  visited  and  talked.  On  Satur- 
day, when  perforce  he  must  start  on  horseback  with 
Ralph,  he  was  well-nigh  surfeited  with  his  own  conse- 
quence. His  black  satin  seemed  to  shine  with  a  high 
personal  gloss.  He  was  returning  like  a  hunter  with 
his  bag  stuffed  with  game — his  head  full  of  tales  of  his 
own  importance.  It  was  always  at  these  moments  that 
he  regretted  keenly  the  poor  hearing  of  Madame  Eliza, 
his  wife,  and  Helen,  his  daughter's  imperturbable  deaf- 
ness for  the  heroic.  Still,  he  knew  his  aged  partner's 
ready  curiosity  and  her  power  of  assimulating  the  ac- 
cented words  she  caught  (if  only  she  had  not  that  fatal 
propensity  of  deflecting  an  idea  wrong  side  up !)  and 
his  daughter's  filial  readiness  to  please  him  (if  only  she 
could  suppress  that  annoying  smile  in  her  eyes!),  and 
so  he  was  tolerably  pleased  with  the  prospect  before 
him. 

I  bade  the  travelers  good-by,  and  made  a  promise 
to  despatch  any  news  I  could  of  events  as  they  hap- 


58  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

pened  in  New  York.  The  day  was  exceedingly  fine. 
Ralph  was  in  good  spirits  over  the  journey  he  was  be- 
ginning and  was  amused,  I  could  see,  by  the  self-im- 
portant air  of  his  companion,  who,  jerking  his  head 
around  repeatedly,  a  trick  he  had  when  excited,  sat 
stiff  as  a  ramrod  on  his  horse  as  they  proceeded  along 
the  Bowery  lane  and  Kingsbridge  road  to  Kingsbridge, 
and  thence  to  the  Hudson  River. 

How  little  I  knew  of  what  they  were  setting  out  to 
meet! 

"I  shall  not  be  away  very  long !"  cried  Ralph  to  me, 
little  dreaming  that  before  I  should  see  him  again  the 
footing  of  his  life  would  be  entirely  changed. 

The  two  travelers  proceeded  leisurely  under  the  May 
foliage,  through  little  villages  where  the  inhabitants, 
aroused  by  the  clattering  hoofs,  watched  them  with  an 
amazed  curiosity,  past  rich  fields  where  the  spring  life 
seemed  almost  to  be  oozing  in  the  warm  sunshine,  now 
skirting  patches  of  forest  filled  with  verdant  light  and 
redolent  with  cool  wood  scents,  now  wandering  almost 
on  the  very  shore  of  the  great  blue  river  with  its  vistas 
of  broad  water,  rocky  cliffs  and  tree-covered  hills. 

They  halted  at  Tarrytown  for  the  night.  Early  the 
next  morning  they  were  up  and  on  the  road  again. 

Everybody  who  has  undertaken  a  trip  of  the  nature 
of  Ralph's  and  Mr.  Scott's  must  have  found  one  dis- 
covers one's  companion  quite  as  much  as  the  country 
traveled  through.  My  young  friend  was  all  for  the 
beauty  of  the  scenery.  Mr.  Scott,  who  had  a  short 
sight  for  Nature,  was  forever  bringing  the  conversation 


59 

back  to  a  personal  turn,  in  which  he  himself  figured 
largely.  Ralph  relapsed  into  good-natured  silence, 
with  only  an  occasional  monosyllable,  leaving  the  old 
man  to  rattle  on  about  his  life,  his  family,  his  ancestry, 
his  estate,  his  friends,  the  coach  Ross  had  built  for  him, 
what  Gen.  Schuyler  or  some  other  notable  had  said 
to  him  on  such  and  such  an  occasion,  how  he  had  ad- 
vised this  or  that  course  at  this  or  that  juncture,  and 
how  much  more  satisfactorily  events  would  have  gone 
had  his  advice  been  taken.  Ralph's  quiescent  mood, 
given  more  to  the  scene  than  to  the  sense  of  his  com- 
panion's gossip,  greatly  pleased  the  elder  man,  who 
found  in  his  fellow-traveler's  mild  receptiveness  what 
he  accounted  as  sympathy  and  intelligence.  He  was 
greatly  in  love  with  Ralph  long  before  they  crossed  the 
Croton  and  reached  Verplank,  where  they  were  forced 
to  stop  awhile  on  account  of  a  lameness  that  had  de- 
veloped in  one  of  the  forefeet  of  Mr.  Scott's  horse. 

"I  can  get  another  beast  here,"  he  said  to  Ralph. 
"The  Red  Lion  has  a  good  stable  and  the  landlord  is 
well  known  to  me." 

When  the  travelers  entered  the  main  street  of  the 
village  they  were  surprised  to  find  a  large  concourse 
of  people,  evidently  gathered  together  hastily.  Men 
without  hats  or  coats,  women  in  house  attire,  laughing, 
roaring  and  screaming,  were  gathered  around  a  centre 
of  interest  at  the  base  of  a  huge  Liberty  pole  that  stood 
before  the  inn. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Scott,  reining  up,  for 
no  one  made  way  for  his  passage. 


60  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Oh,  nothing,"  replied  a  tall,  bronze-faced  man  bet- 
ter dressed  than  the  rest.  "  Tis  a  little  patriotic  amuse- 
ment, that's  all.  A  party  of  girls  led  by  the  parson's 
daughter  are  tarring  and  feathering  a  young  fellow 
who  has  the  bad  taste  to  admire  King  George.  Jump 
off;  I'll  hold  your  horse.  The  play  is  really  worth  the 
seeing.  I've  watched  it  till  I'm  sick  of  laughing."  He 
laughed  loudly. 

It  was  in  this  way  that  Brant  encountered  the  trav- 
elers. 

"Gracious !"  exclaimed  Scott,  excitedly.  "I  must  see 
this.  Dismount,  Ralph.  Perhaps  this  gentleman — " 

"Certainly,  with  pleasure,"  said  Brant.  "I  can  man- 
age the  two,  I  judge,  for  a  few  minutes." 

Ralph  dismounted.  Scott  pushed  a  way  through 
the  crowd  to  the  inner  line,  whence  they  gained  a  full 
view  of  the  proceedings. 

In  a  clear  space  around  the  Liberty  pole  were  gath- 
ered possibly  a  score  of  resolute  looking  Amazons, 
mostly  young  women  in  the  bloom  of  life.  Co-oper- 
ating with  them  was  a  tall  farmer  who  stood  a  little 
aloof  with  a  long  leather  whip  in  his  hand.  At  the  foot 
of  the  pole  sat  a  young  man,  pale  and  terror-stricken 
almost  to  death,  a  picture  of  utter  dejection.  His  hair 
was  dishevelled,  his  face  scratched  and  bleeding,  his 
clothes  torn  from  him  to  the  waist  by  his  oppressors. 
On  his  lap  lay  the  body  of  a  big  goose  that  his  trem- 
bling fingers  were  plucking  with  nervous  difficulty. 

"He  ain't  very  brisk  at  his  work !"  exclaimed  one  of 
the  women. 


THE  JOURNET  TO  THE  MANSE  6 1 

"No,  that's  a  fact.  Hurry  up,  Mr.  Tory.  I  should 
think  you'd  want  to  get  your  coat  on  before  ladies." 

"It's  an  outrage  to  any  respectable  goose  to  have  to 
clothe  such  a  thing  as  that,"  said  a  vinegary  maiden 
contemptuously.  "Ain't  he  white  and  soft.  Pinch 
him,"  she  added,  as  she  nipped  the  victim. 

Others  followed  her  example,  making  the  young 
man  bellow  like  a  calf. 

"Be  nimble,  then,"  commanded  the  parson's  daugh- 
ter. 

"I  can't,"  whined  the  fellow.  "These  feathers  stick 
so." 

"They'll  stick  faster  by  and  by,  I  warrant  you,"  was 
the  reply. 

"It's  a  good  Whig  bird,"  roared  a  voice  from  the 
crowd,  "and  hates  to  feather  a  Tory  scamp.  Three 
cheers  for  the  goose !" 

The  crowd  were  in  a  jolly  humor.  They  cheered, 
laughed  and  joked  while  the  sorry  object  of  their  mer- 
riment worked  on  dejectedly  until  the  bird  was  as  de- 
nuded as  his  own  back. 

"There!  That'll  do,"  said  the  parson's  daughter. 
"We'll  singe  the  pin  feathers  for  you.  Stand  up,  Mr. 
Tory!" 

The  wretch  obeyed  the  command  and  leaned  against 
the  Liberty  pole  to  steady  his  trembling  legs. 

"Come,  girls,  are  you  ready?  Let's  sweeten  him, 
then." 

Upon  this  the  tormenters  poured  over  the  young 
man's  head  and  body  a  bucketful  of  molasses  which 


62  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

had  been  obtained  in  place  of  the  traditional  tar,  which 
the  neighborhood  was  unable  to  supply. 

The  crowd  roared,  the  girls  screamed  as  the  brown 
liquid  crawled  down  the  victim's  face  and  body. 

"That's  only  the  lining,"  cried  the  parson's  daugh- 
ter. "Now  for  the  good  old  Tory  coat !" 

The  women  covered  the  young  man  with  the  feath- 
ers he  had  been  forced  to  pluck. 

A  most  deplorable  looking  object,  a  strange  hybrid 
creature,  stood  shaking  before  them. 

"I  wonder  whether  King  George  would  know  his 
friend?"  asked  one. 

"It  ain't  a  rare  bird  these  days,"  replied  another. 

"They  say  they  have  a  recipe  for  cooking  them  at 
Windsor,"  said  the  parson's  daughter.  "But  before 
we  'shoo'  this  specimen  let's  make  him  cackle.  Look 
up,  you  Tory  Goose!  Raise  your  long  neck!  You 
look  so  fine  you  ought  to  have  been  born  with  those 
feathers.  Give  us  a  little  speech.  We'll  teach  you  for 
once  to  speak  the  truth.  Repeat  what  I  tell  you: 
'Ladies  and  Gentlemen — I  regret  I  have  given  you  so 
much  trouble.  I  promise  always  to  remember  you 
kindly  for  having  taught  me  that  King  George  is  a 
tyrant  who  deserves  the  gibbet.  Long  live  trie  Con- 
tinental Congress !  Down  with  the  King !' ' 

The  poor  wretch  mumbled  these  words  as  com- 
manded, his  mouth  half  filled  with  molas'ses  and 
feathers. 

"Down  with  the  King!"  roared  the  mob. 


THE  JOURNEY  TO  THE  MANSE  63 

"Now  chase  him !"  cried  the  parson's  daughter. 

In  a  moment  the  fellow  was  fleeing  before  a  hooting 
mob  of  men,  women,  children  and  barking  dogs.  The 
village  was  almost  emptied.  Neither  Ralph  nor  Mr. 
Scott  joined  in  the  chase.  As  they  looked  around  to 
find  the  stranger  who  had  taken  charge  of  their  horses 
they  saw  that  he  and  themselves  were  almost  the  only 
persons  left  in  the  street. 

"Great  fun,  isn't  it?"  asked  Brant  as  they  approached 
him. 

"That's  the  way  all  such  vermin  should  be  treated," 
said  Scott.  "Those  are  the  girls  to  bear  patriots.  My 
friend  here  won't  quite  agree  with  me,  I'm  afraid,"  he 
added,  smiling  at  Ralph. 

"It  isn't  that  I  won't,"  said  Ralph,  "I  can't.  By  God, 
we're  a  set  of  savages  yet !" 

"You  might  take  my  young  friend  for  a  Tory,"  said 
Scott,  jocularly.  "He  isn't.  He's  moulting.  But,  sir," 
he  added  to  Brant,  "we  owe  you  many  thanks  for  your 
courtesy.  May  I  ask  to  whom  we  are  indebted?" 

"Schuyler  Monroe  is  my  name,"  replied  Brant. 

"Oh!"  said  Mr.  Scott,  who  now  for  the  first  time 
had  a  moment  to  look  closely  at  the  stranger.  "Am  I 
wrong  in  guessing  that  you  are  not  entirely  of  our 
blood?" 

"Your  guess  is  quite  correct,  sir,"  replied  Brant, 
coolly.  "I  am  of  the  original  inhabitants  of  this  land. 
I  am  named  after  Gen.  Schuyler,  a  friend  of  mine." 

"An  old  friend  of  mine,  too.  Estimable  man.  I  am 
Isaac  Scott.  Perhaps  you  have  heard  of  me?" 


64  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Indeed,  yes,"  said  the  Indian,  smiling.  "Gen. 
Schuyler  often  speaks  of  you." 

"This  is  Mr.  Tennant,"  continued  Scott. 

The  Indian  bowed  to  Ralph's  salutation  and  said : 

"Well,  as  I  can  be  of  no  further  service  to  you  I  wish 
you  good-by,  for  I  have  a  journey  ahead  of  me." 

"Perhaps  we  have  detained  you.  Have  you  far  to 
go?"  asked  Ralph,  who  found  himself  interested  in  the 
stranger. 

"Oh,  to  Albany,"  said  Brant,  carelessly. 

"That's  our  destination,"  exclaimed  Scott,  "and, 
devil  take  it,  my  horse  has  gone  lame.  I  must  ex- 
change him  at  the  Red  Lion  here." 

"Any  exchange  you  can  make  now  will  be  a  poor 
one,"  said  Brant. 

"How  so?"  asked  Scott. 

"Capt.  McDonald  was  through  these  parts  yester- 
day and  took  away  with  him  every  beast  worth  oats." 

"Gracious!  What  are  we  to  do,  Ralph?"  asked 
Scott. 

"Wait  or  walk,"  said  Ralph,  laughing. 

"There's  an  alternative,"  suggested  Brant,  quietly. 

"There  is?"  asked  Scott. 

"I  proceed  by  boat  to  Poughkeepsie.  Tide  and  wind 
favor  this  afternoon,"  replied  Brant.  "You  are  wel- 
come to  such  accommodation  as  the  sloop  affords.  At 
Poughkeepsie  you  can,  no  doubt,  find  mounts." 

Mr.  Scott  looked  at  Ralph  inquiringly. 

"I  fear  it's  intruding,  but  the  idea  strikes  me  very 
happily,"  said  Ralph. 


THE  JOURNEY  TO  THE  MANSE  65 

"Don't  take  it  as  an  intrusion,"  said  Brant,  quietly. 
"You  are  really  welcome." 

The  matter  ended  by  a  full  acceptance  of  the  prof- 
fered service.  As  a  preliminary  to  the  voyage  Scott 
invited  Brant  to  dine  with  them  at  the  inn. 

A  few  hours  later  the  three  were  moving  briskly  up 
the  Hudson  with  a  strong  tide  and  a  fresh  southerly 
breeze.  '  They  glided  swiftly  by  little  river  villages  and 
smaller  settlements,  the  white  houses  of  which  glis- 
tened in  the  mellow  afternoon  sun.  Brant  knew  every 
one  of  them.  His  mind  had  a  marvellous  affinity  for  the 
curious,  the  supernatural  and  the  tragic.  Sitting  aft  in 
the  sloop  upon  improvised  cushions  of  blankets,  now 
pointing  to  the  shore,  now  with  eyes  uplifted  to  the 
huge  bellying  sail,  he  took  great  delight  apparently  in 
recounting  weird  tales  to  his  guests,  often  weaving 
them  into  the  moving  landscape.  He  took  infinite 
pains  to  make  his  companions  comfortable.  His  care 
had,  apparently,  so  little  effort  in  it,  was  done  so  in- 
differently, that  in  a  short  time  Ralph  and  Mr.  Scott 
were  completely  at  their  ease,  congratulating  them- 
selves on  the  outcome  of  their  mishap.  They  were 
soon  past  Peekskill  and  then  with  a  shift  of  sail  entered 
the  Highlands. 

"I  swear  I'm  not  sorry  that  horse  went  lame,"  said 
Scott.  "I'm  not  much  given  to  water  in  any  form, 
but  this  excels  jogging  along  hard  roads." 

"That  beast  and  I  are  friends  hereafter,"  said  Ralph, 
sleepily.  He  was  stretched  out  full  length  on  the  deck 
basking  in  the  sun. 


66  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  believe  you  are  half  asleep,  Ralph,"  said  Scott  in 
a  tone  of  indolent  admonition,  yawning  himself  as  he 
spoke. 

"No,"  protested  Ralph.  "I'm  merely  dozing  to  let 
Mr.  Monroe's  weird  tales  have  their  full  effect.  Our 
friend  is  a  born  story-teller,  isn't  he?  I  wish  I  could 
remember  half  his  narratives." 

The  Indian  smiled. 

"If  you'd  like  a  nap  there's  a  softer  couch  in  the 
cabin,"  Brant  suggested. 

Ralph  declared  he  was  comfortable  enough.  He 
had  no  idea  of  sleeping.  Mr.  Scott,  however,  was 
habituated  to  an  afternoon  doze,  and  seized  the  propo- 
sition for  himself. 

"That  couch  has  an  attraction  for  me,  Ralph,  that 
it  may  not  have  for  you,  if  Mr.  Monroe  will  excuse  my 
perverting  his  suggestion  to  my  own  use." 

"It's  at  your  service,"  said  Brant. 

"Then  I'll  take  it,"  he  continued,  his  sleepy  eyes 
blinking  heavily  as  he  stood  for  a  moment  at  the  cabin 
hatchway.  "I  remember  one  day  at  my  friend,  Mr. 
Livingston's,  up  the  river  here,  the  ladies  left  the  host 
and  myself  together  after  dinner,  expecting  us  to  join 
them  shortly.  I  don't  know  how  long  they  waited. 
By  and  by  Mrs.  Livingston — admirable  woman —  re- 
turned to  find  us.  There  we  were,  sunk  in  our  frills, 
snoring  at  one  another  across  the  table.  Ha!  Ha! 
How  they  joked  us  when  we  entered  the  drawing 
room !  If  I'm  away  too  long,  Ralph,  wake  me." 


THE  JOURNET  TO  THE  MANSE  6/ 

Left  in  the  company  of  Brant  (for  I  take  no  account 
of  the  bewhiskered,  farmer-like  sailor  who  owned  the 
sloop  and  navigated  it  with  the  precision  and  muteness 
of  an  automaton)  Ralph  kept  silence,  listening  in  the 
rich  satisfaction  of  perfect  idleness  to  the  musical  splash 
of  the  water  at  the  bow  of  the  boat.  He  recognized 
that  the  situation  demanded  some  effort  on  his  part  to 
be  sociable.  He  sought  for  something  to  say,  but  the 
mood  of  the  moment  was  too  entirely  indolent  and  dif- 
fusive for  speech.  With  half  apologetic  intent  he 
turned  to  his  host.  Finding  him  in  a  brown  study  he 
regarded  the  situation  as  tolerated.  "Queer  fellow," 
he  thought,  as  his  vision  reverted  to  the  forest-clad 
hills.  "Yet  naturally  amiable." 

Brant  was  studying  Ralph.  My  young  friend  al- 
most from  the  first  moment  of  their  encounter  had  in- 
terested this  educated  savage.  I  quite  understand  the 
attraction  myself,  for  it  was  one  of  my  delights  in  our 
friendship.  Nature  is  no  democrat.  Her  gifts  pos- 
sess an  aristocratic  force.  The  prerogatives  she  had 
conferred  upon  Ralph  were  those  of  a  peculiarly  win- 
ning nature.  His  carelessly  distinguished  manner, 
open,  persuasive,  even  boyish,  was  of  a  sort  that  rarely 
failed  of  notice  with  any  one,  but  for  Brant  it  was  well- 
nigh  irresistible.  He  held  to  the  white  man's  civiliza- 
tion partly  by  imitation  perpetually  renewed  and,  per- 
haps, the  element  of  all  others  that  attracted  him  most 
was  one  that  Ralph  possessed  in  a  high  degree — the 
air  of  "quality." 

The  sloop  passed  suddenly  out  of  sunshine  into  the 


68  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

shadow  of  one  of  the  towering  crests  of  the  Highlands. 
Ralph  raised  himself  on  his  arm  and  exclaimed  how 
beautiful  the  view  was — the  May  forest,  the  silent  hills, 
the  darker  valleys,  the  intense  white  sunlit  clouds. 

"Yes,"  said  the  Indian,  "I  love  this  spot — just  here 
where  hills,  forest,  sky  and  river  are  huddled  together. 
Some  years  aeo,"  he  continued,  and  his  voice  had  a  pe- 
culiar soft  tone  for  the  reminiscent,  as  though  the  nar- 
rator was  listening  to  an  invisible  speaker  and  was  re- 
producing what  he  heard,  "I  had  a  strange  experience 
in  the  furthermost  point  of  that  valley  yonder,  down 
there,  you  see,  between  those  two  tallest  hills,  but 
rather  closer  to  the  further  one.  That's  it.  Just  there. 
I  and  two  young  men  set  out  early  in  January  to  hunt. 
We  had  no  plan,  could  make  any  tree  on  our  way  the 
turning  point.  We  wandered  along  the  river,  jour- 
neyed inland,  visited  the  villages,  made  calls  on  friends 
I  knew,  such  as  Mr.  Livingston  whom  your  friend 
spoke  of  a  little  time  ago,  and  at  last  found  ourselves 
entering  the  Highlands  close  to  where  we  are  now.  It 
was  dusk.  It  began  to  snow.  The  night,  silent  as  a 
hunter  in  mocassins,  came  on  swiftly  and — we  were 
caught.  What  to  do?  Find  a  hole  somewhere.  Try 
to  make  a  fire  and  wait.  There  was  nothing  else. 

"We  were  looking  around  for  shelter  when  suddenly 
I  caught  sight  of  a  light  in  the  distance.  It  was  from 
a  big  fire.  It  blazed  cheerfully  through  the  tall  black 
trees,  which,  in  the  wind,  cast  moving  shadows  on  the 
snow  as  of  warriors  dancing.  We  crept  up  to  it.  To 
our  surprise  it  was  an  encampment  of  Indians.  The 


THE  JOURNEY  TO  THE  MANSE  69 

evening  meal  was  ready.  We  saluted  the  chief,  who 
hailed  us  as  we  approached.  We  told  him  our  distress. 
We  were  received  with  the  hospitality  and  courtesy 
which  are  of  the  heart  of  the  Indian.  We  ate  and 
smoked.  In  due  time  we  wrapped  around  us  the  furs 
provided  and  fell  asleep,  the  warm  blaze  of  that  huge 
fire  flickering  before  our  tired  eyes.  The  next  morn- 
ing " 

Brant  suddenly  paused.  No  actor  could  have  marked 
a  transition  here  better  than  he  did,  as  he  instantly  and 
with  quicker  speech  resumed. 

"The  sun  was  shining  brightly;  the  air  clear,  cold  and 
blue.  Not  a  sound  save  the  occasional  snapping  of  a 
forest  twig.  The  snow  had  muffled  the  earth.  The  air 
was  chilled  to  stillness  by  the  frost.  I  was  the  first  to 
awake.  I  looked  around.  My  two  companions  were 
asleep  beside  me,  but  the  camp — it  was  gone,  gone  as 
a  dream  vanishes.  Not  a  trace  of  our  hosts,  not  a  ves- 
tige of  fire,  not  a  fragment  of  food,  not  a  footprint  on 
the  snow,  not  even  the  furs  we  had  wrapped  around  us. 
Guess  our  surprise! 

"When  at  home  again  we  related  our  experience. 
Then  we  learned  that  our  hosts  that  snowy  night  were 
a  small  band  of  Algonquins  who  had  all  been  treacher- 
ously murdered  by  my  own  people  years  before  the 
white  man  first  trod  the  shores  of  the  Hudson." 

Ralph  listened  to  the  tale  intently  interested  by 
Brant's  dramatic  manner. 

When  the  narrator  finished  he  turned  to  his  compan- 
ion as  expecting  comment. 


7O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Ralph  rose  from  his  position  on  the  deck  and  drows- 
ily stretched  himself. 

"Treachery !  Bloodshed !"  he  exclaimed,  "Isn't  it  a 
pity  that's  the  history  of  the  Indian  everywhere?" 

In  an  instant  Brant  was  on  his  feet. 

The  two  men  faced  one  another  scarce  an  arm's 
length  apart.  The  Indian's  dark  eyes  flashed  into 
Ralph's. 

"Bah !"  cried  Ralph  instantly.  ''How  stupid  of  me ! 
Pardon  me,"  he  added,  extending  his  hand.  "Really, 
it  never  occurred  to  me — that — er " 

"Never  mind  me !  I  don't  speak  because  I,  too,  am 
Indian  and  proud  of  it,"  cried  Brant  passionately.  "You 
accuse  the  Indian!  My  people!  My  race!  Are  they 
more  treacherous  than  yours?  Yours?" 

His  voice  was  raised  to  its  highest  key.  The  cry 
"Yours,  yours,"  rang  among  the  surrounding  hills. 

"Now!  now!"  urged  Ralph,  smiling,  "I  have  asked 
your  pardon,  why " 

"No!"  cried  Brant,  impetuously.  "There's  nothing 
to  pardon.  Be  frank !  You  are  white !  Speak !  You ! 
I  have  learned  the  white  man's  ways.  They  are  more 
treacherous  than  any  Indian's,  and,  by  God,  I  know!" 

"Very  well,"  said  Ralph.  "Let  it  be  so !  We  won't 
dispute  about  it.  I'd  agree  with  you  at  once  if  I  didn't 
think  you  are  mistaken — greatly." 

"Ha!  Ha!  Greatly!"  laughed  Brant  ironically. 
"Ha " 

He  stopped  suddenly,  looked  Ralph  in  the  face  stead- 
ily, then  said  in  a  suppressed  voice : 


THE  JOURNEY  TO  THE  MANSE  71 

"You  have  a  letter  in  your  pocket  from  Mr.  White- 
head  Hicks?" 

Instinctively  Ralph  placed  his  hand  over  his  breast 
pocket. 

"And  Mr.  Hicks  is  your — friend?"  sneered  Brant. 

"My  friend,  yes!"  Ralph  asserted. 

"He  has  asked  you  to  deliver  that  letter  yourself  to 
Sir  John  Johnson?" 

"How  do  know  all  this?" 

"Never  mind !"  replied  Brant,  authoritatively.  "May 
I  see  that  letter?" 

Ralph  drew  back  a  step. 

"I  forget,"  said  Brant,  sarcastically.    "I'm  an  Indian. 

Something  in  Brant's  voice  touched  Ralph. 

"You  are  not  quite  fair,"  Ralph  pleaded.  "I  don't 
distrust  you.  I  am  dumfounded  by  your  knowledge 
of  my  affairs." 

As  Ralph  spoke  he  extracted  the  sealed  package 
from  his  pocket  and  scanned  the  superscription  en- 
grossed in  a  heavy  hand,  as  though  it  had  acquired  a 
new  interest  for  him. 

"That's  it!"  cried  Brant,  exultantly.  "That  letter 
from  your  friend  denounces  you  as  an  enemy  of  the 
King,  a  dangerous  person.  It  requests  Sir  Johnson  to 
lock  you  up — you  understand?  Eh!  Whiteman's 
honor!  Bah!" 

Ralph  was  staggered  far  beyond  the  Indian's  sur- 
mise, for  suspicion  worked  with  amazing  rapidity 
among  a  number  of  facts,  of  course,  unknown  to  Brant. 

The  Indian  watched  him  intently  and  gleefully. 


72  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"No!"  cried  Ralph.  "I  don't  believe  it.  You  are 
trying  to  deceive  me.  What's  your  purpose?  Out 
with  it." 

"Deceive  you!"  exclaimed  Brant. 

He  seized  the  letter  from  Ralph's  hand.  Before  it  was 
possible  to  interpose  he  angrily  tore  it  open. 

"Deceive  you !"  he  cried.  "Whiteman  or  Indian,  who 
deceives?  Read!  There  is  your  friend's  warrant.  Read! 
Read!" 

He  forced  the  letter  roughly  into  Ralph's  hand. 

The  suddenness,  the  boldness  of  the  act  overwhelmed 
Ralph. 

"I  would  befriend  you,"  cried  Brant  in  a  changed 
tone.  "You  believe  me?" 

Ralph  was  silent. 

"Read,  then!"  persisted  Brant. 

Ralph  refolded  the  letter  and  placed  it  in  his  pocket. 

"I  shall  have  some  difficulty  to  explain  your — inciv- 
ility," he  said. 

"You  won't  read?"  repeated  Brant. 

"Read?    No!" 

"You'll  deliver  that?"  cried  Brant  in  amazement. 

"I'll  deliver  it!" 

For  a  moment  Brant  was  silent. 

"You  have  shown  me  the  other  side,"  he  said. 

At  Poughkeepsie  the  two  travelers  parted  from 
Brant.  The  latter  excused  himself  from  proceeding 
further  in  their  company  on  account  of  some  business 
he  had  to  attend  to  in  the  village  that  might  delay  him 
even  a  day  or  two.  However,  he  played  the  host  to  the 


THE  JOURNET  TO  THE  MANSE  73 

end,  aiding  Mr.  Scott  to  procure  horses  from  a  farmer 
whom  he  knew. 

When  the  final  preparations  for  the  start  were  in 
hand,  he  drew  Raloh  aside  and  asked : 

"Are  you  offended  with  me?" 

There  was  a  touch  of  appeal  in  the  question. 

"No,"  said  Ralph  frankly,  "though  I  don't  under- 
stand you.  I  am  sorry  you  refuse  to  explain.  You  are 
a  queer  fellow,  but  rightly  or  wrrongly  somehow  you 
appeal  to  me." 

"Then  don't  deliver  that  letter,"  urged  Brant.  "Trust 
me  so  much !" 

Ralph  smiling,  shook  his  head. 

"Then  read  it;"  persisted  Brant. 

"Haven't  you  told  me  its  contents?"  cried  Ralph  as 
he  mounted  his  horse.  "Why  need  I?  But  I  wish  you 
would  dispel  the  mystery  for  me." 

"No!  No!"  said  Brant,  shaking  his  head  solemnly. 
"Impulse  has  carried  me  too  far  already.  Don't  mis- 
trust me,  however." 

"I  don't,"  said  Ralph.  "I  feel  there  is  something  gen- 
erous in  what  you  have  done.  If  I  ever  know  I  will 
repay  you — if  I  can.  As  it  is  I  thank  you.  Don't  for- 
get you  have  promised  to  see  me  in  Albany.  If  you 
fail  I  shall  doubt  you." 

"I  shall  see  you,"  said  Brant. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
THE  MANSE  AND  ITS  INMATES. 

WITHOUT  further  incident  of  note  the  travelers  reached 
the  Scott  homestead,  which  stands  half  a  day's  leisure- 
ly journey  north  of  Albany,  and  close  to  the  east  bank 
of  the  river.  Mr.  Scott  was  proud  of  being  so  large  a 
landholder.  He  named  his  home  "The  Manse,"  no 
doubt  from  some  precedent  he  had  come  across  in  his 
reading,  for  he  was  much  given  to  enact  his  literature. 
Tradition,  however,  was  obstinate.  Neighbors  around 
clung  to  the  ancient  title  of  the  place,  and  spoke  of  it 
unpoetically  as  the  "Loper  House,"  the  original  domi- 
cile having  been  built  by  one  Paulus  de  Loper,  an  early 
settler  in  those  parts  and  a  sturdy  ancestor  of  Mrs. 
Scott.  Indeed,  it  was  from  the  wife  that  the  husband 
possessed  the  estate.  It  was  of  very  vast  extent,  of  I 
cannot  tell  how  many  hundred — perhaps  I  ought  to  say 
how  many  thousand — acres.  The  confines  north  and 
east  were  indeterminate,  being  affected  by  several  coun- 
terclaims involving  questions  of  grant  and  patent.  Un- 
doubtedly there  were  disputes,  for  there  were  lawsuits, 
but  they  were  as  distant  as  the  land  concerned,  and  ap- 
parently troubled  nobody.  Scott  declared  gravely  that 
the  questions  involved  went  to  the  very  foundation  of 


THE  MANSE  AND  ITS  INMATES  75 

British  dominion  in  the  western  world.  I  opine  he 
would  very  much  rather  have  parted  with  the  land  than 
the  litigations.  The  former  was  of  little  value  to  any 
one;  the  latter  brought  him  into  contact  with  judges, 
governors  and  other  high  officials,  and  furnished  per- 
petual activity  for  his  busy  vanity. 

The  house  itself  was  not  a  pretentious  structure.  It 
was  a  square,  comfortable,  two-story  brick  dwelling, 
covered  with  strong  lime  mortar,  with  a  pleasant 
hooded  porch  before  the  front  -door.  Several  noble 
elms  overtopped  the  roof,  survivors  of  the  primitive  for- 
est. Pasture  and  cultivated  land  stretched  away  east- 
ward with  every  evidence  of  high  fertility,  almost  to  the 
foot  of  the  pine-clad  hills.  To  the  south  was  an  exten- 
sive orchard,  flanked  with  gardens,  a  big  gabled  barn, 
other  smaller  farm  buildings  and  a  fence,  on  many 
stakes  of  which  were  affixed  the  skeleton  heads  of  cat- 
tle. In  the  cavities  of  the  skulls  little  winter  birds  con- 
structed their  nests.  Beyond  the  orchard  fence  ran 
the  highway,  and  there,  under  a  clump  of  sycamores,  a 
few  Indian  families  had  built  their  wigwams.  These 
Mohawks  depended  for  their  subsistence  in  part  upon 
hunting  and  fishing  and  the  benevolence  of  the  family 
in  the  Manse,  and  in  part  upon  the  livelihood  they  de- 
rived from  their  small  native  handicrafts.  Some  negro 
slaves  also  lived  in  this  quarter,  and  cultivated  little 
patches  of  ground  around  their  hut-like  homes.  In  the 
rear  of  the  great  house  was  a  small  flower  garden,  bor- 
dered by  the  river  bank,  lined  with  willows.  Here  was 
the  recreation  ground  of  the  inmates  of  the  Manse 


76  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

where,  dinner  over,  they  gathered  to  enjoy  the  sum- 
mer afternoons  and  the  cool  of  the  long  evenings. 

It  was  a  perfectly  rural  home,  much  more  farm-like 
than  Scott  pictured  it  for  himself,  his  head  full  of  de- 
scriptions of  English  estates.  However,  to  justify  his 
imagination  he  spent  more  than  was  judicious  in  pur- 
chasing fine  furniture  and  silver  pieces  to  make  a  show 
within  doors  until  his  wife  demurred,  declaring  he  had 
well-nigh  driven  his  family  into  the  kitchen  with  his 
elegance — an  accusation  which  he  regarded  as  evidence 
of  the  obstinate  heredity  of  Dutch  frugality  and  what 
he  termed  "a  vile,  impecunious  view  of  life."  However, 
as  Mr.  Scott  had  fairly  completed  his  importations  be- 
fore madam's  objections  attained  to  the  vigor  of  a  pro- 
test, he  allowed  her  opinions  the  semblance  of  law.  He 
viewed  with  intense  satisfaction  the  elegant  and  spa- 
cious parlor  he  had  fitted  up — a  room  which,  in  its  ap- 
pointments, might  well  challenge  comparison  with  any 
apartment  in  the  region,  even  anything  in  the  Schuyler 
house  further  down  the  river — the  dining  room  wherein 
the  mahogany  and  silver  whispered  confidentially  to  a 
visitor  of  good  living,  and  the  library  filled  chiefly  with 
books  on  law  and  music. 

I  have  always  held  these  studies  to  be  naturally  in- 
compatible. Mr.  Scott's  case  was  not  really  an  excep- 
tion. He  harmonized  these  conflicting  studies  through 
the  possession  of  an  execrable  ear.  He  owned  a  harp- 
sichord and  spent  a  deal  of  time  when  at  home  indefa- 
tigably  attempting  to  tune  it.  No  one  could  discover 
upon  what  system  of  harmonics  he  worked,  but  the  re- 


THE  MANSE  AND  ITS  INMATES  77 

suit  was  always  weirdly  discordant.  After  hours  of  la- 
bor he  would  permit  himself  the  satisfaction  of  a  little 
practice  with  some  simple  melody,  only  to  be  com- 
pletely upset  by  his  wife's  invariable  formula: 

"Isaac,  are  you  still  tuning  or  playing?" 

Mrs.  Scott  possessed  some  untutored  musical  talent, 
and  this  question  always  produced  in  Scott  a  hopeless 
and  envious  frame  of  mind. 

But  these  were  matters  of  many  years  ago.  When 
Ralph  made  his  visit  to  the  Manse  the  master's  extrav- 
agance had  long  been  incorporated  into  the  household 
economy.  The  harpsichord  had  added  certain  infirmi- 
ties to  its  original  defects,  but  the  ear  of  the  mistress  of 
the  house  was  unable  to  detect  them. 

Mrs.  Scott  was  older  than  her  husband.  The  last  ten 
years  had  curiously  blanched  her.  Every  bit  of  color, 
even  the  shadows  and  stains  that  time  makes,  had  so 
faded  from  her  appearance  that  one  scarcely  could  es- 
cape remarking  a  pallor  that  seemed  deeper  than  the 
skin.  The  mistress  of  the  Manse  was  still  a  shapely 
woman,  retaining  something  of  the  powerful  frame 
and  masculine  figure  which  marked  her  youth,  and  con- 
sorted then,  in  no  ill-fitting  way,  with  her  robust  health 
and  vigorous  activity.  Of  late,  however,  age  had,  per- 
haps I  should  say,  stilled  this  force  rather  than  dissi- 
pated it.  Her  abundant  hair  was  as  white  as  paper. 
It  differed  scarcely  by  a  shade  from  her  complexion. 
Her  blue  eyes  were  not  so  much  dimmed  as  diluted, 
and  the  affliction  of  partial  deafness  imparted  at  times 
a  muffled,  forgotten  tone  to  her  voice.  Locomotion 


78  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

was  difficult  for  her,  so  she  spent  much  of  her  time 
either  reading  religious  books  or  gazing  mutely  and 
fixedly  before  her — no  doubt  through  one  of  those  nar- 
row windows  of  memory  at  which  the  prisoners  of  age 
forever  station  themselves. 

Her  rule  at  the  Manse — and  it  always  had  been  rule, 
a  government  of  duties  inflexibly  performed  and  ex- 
acted— had  devolved  upon  her  daughter  Helen,  the 
only  surviving  child  of  a  union  of  incompatibilities. 

In  the  daughter  the  mother  reappeared,  but  now 
poetized  by  youth,  with  something  added  of  delicacy 
and  softness  always  lacking  in  the  original.  The  moth- 
er's virtues  were  hard-working,  scolding  drudges.  The 
daughter  possessed  to  the  full  all  the  maternal  good 
qualities,  but  they  lacked  everything  of  the  deliberate 
or  arbitrary.  They  were  unconscious  and  poised.  Scott 
was  known  to  have  spoken  of  "something  metallic  in 
some  women,"  and  his  utterance  was  pretty  generally 
regarded  as  a  breach  of  martial  reticence. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  Helen  was  not  of  the  obnoxious 
class.  She  was  a  fair-haired,  blue-eyed,  comely  girl,  of 
a  thoroughly  healthy  nature,  without  humors,  indirec- 
tions or  fancies  of  any  kind.  She  lacked  the  last  finish 
of  high  breeding,  but  the  deficiency  seemed  to  be  on 
purpose  to  reveal  the  unsophisticated  excellence  of  the 
material.  Her  view  of  life  did  not  reach  in  any  direc- 
tion beyond  the  undoubted  boundaries  of  common- 
sense,  admitting  no  horizons  or  anything  that  indicated 
a  world  far  off.  Her  world,  indeed,  was  the  flat,  every- 
day world — a  world  wherein  the  virtues  and  decencies 


THE  MANSE  AND  ITS  INMATES  79 

figured  prominently,  but  at  the  same  time  necessarily, 
merely  like  so  many  chairs  and  tables  and  other  utilities 
of  a  well-ordered  existence. 

What  shall  \ve  say  of  the  poet  without  rhapsody,  the 
lover  of  truth  without  fervor,  the  martyr  who  regards 
his  suffering  as  a  matter  of  interest  to  the  physician 
only,  the  philanthropist  who  makes  charity  a  kitchen 
virtue,  the  enthusiast  who  promptly  puts  the  heroics  of 
life  to  work  as  common  servants?  We  may  complain 
that  such  miss  the  spirit  in  the  exercise  of  the  office, 
but  we  are  compelled  to  acknowledge  they  give  us  the 
fact  while  they  seem  to  ignore  the  principle.  Helen 
Scott  perpetually  disappointed  me  by  her  blind  adher- 
ence to  commonplace  motives,  and  then  confounded 
me  by  the  incalculable  heights  to  which  they  carried 
her. 

When  Mr.  Scott  and  Ralph  rode  up  to  the  front  door 
of  the  Manse,  accompanied  by  half  a  score  of  romping 
negro  children,  Helen  was  the  first  of  the  household 
to  greet  them.  She  came  from  the  flower  garden,  wear- 
ing a  great  calash.  She  carried  a  rake  over  her  shoul- 
der and  a  small  painted  basket  in  her  hand.  Her  face 
was  flushed  by  labor.  Perhaps  its  color  deepened  a  little 
when  she  perceived  the  stranger.  After  assisting  her 
father  to  dismount  she  greeted  him  affectionately,  but 
without  effusion.  She  curtsied  politely  to  Ralph  when 
Scott  introduced  him,  but  paid  no  attention  to  the  pa- 
ternal remark  that  here  was  a  gentleman  full  of  stories 
for  her  of  the  gayeties  of  London  and  New  York. 

"We  were  not  expecting  you,"  she  said  to  her  father. 


8O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Brushing  the  dust  from  his  shoulders  she  said  affec- 
tionately "I  hope  you  are  going  to  settle  down  with  us 
for  a  long  time,  eh?" 

"My  dear  girl,"  said  Scott,  as  he  stamped  his  cramped 
feet,  "it  wouldn't  be  wise  to  make  treaties  quite  so 
quickly  as  this,  even  with  you.  Wait  till  I  see  how  you 
are  going  to  treat  me  and  Mr.  Ralph  here.  I  will  tell 
you  this,  however,  I  have  a  great  deal  to  do  around 
here." 

"I  hope  that  doesn't  mean  we  are  not  to  see  much 
of  you?" 

"In  times  like  these "  began  Scott,  gravely. 

"When  everyone  is  beating  the  big  drum,"  she  said, 
smiling,  "you  are  better  off  at  home.  Besides,  you 
must  be  careful  to  avoid  falling  into  the  crow's  habit 
of  life." 

"The  crow's,  Helen?" 

"Yes;  the  crow  is  the  only  bird  that  doesn't  feed 
where  it  sleeps.  But  let  us  go  in.  Dinner  must  be 
ready.  'Chalk,'  take  care  of  the  horses." 

Chalk  was  an  off-colored  negro. 

Ralph  soon  felt  himself  quite  atjiome  in  the  Scott 
household.  At  first  his  reception  struck  him  as  some- 
what cold.  This  impression,  however,  quickly  disap- 
peared as  he  recognized  that  it  was  occasioned  by  the 
unceremonious  manner  of  people  thoroughly  accus- 
tomed to  themselves.  He  was  familiar  with  a  more 
sophisticated  society,  where  certain  sentiments  were 
often  exaggerated  by  expression.  His  appearance  at 
the  Manse  made  not  the  slightest  change  in  the  house- 


THE  MANSE  AND  ITS  INMATES  8 1 

hold  life.  He  was  promptly  accepted  as  a  member  of 
it.  Though  the  kindness  he  received  came  slowly,  it 
came  in  so  ordinary  a  guise  as  scarcely  to  invite  his 
recognition. 

When  greeting  Ralph  Mrs.  Scott  limited  her  wel- 
come to  a  stiff  "How  do  yer  do?"  She  spoke  with 
some  country  accent,  and  always  with  the  decision  of 
a  mind  irrevocably  made  up. 

Ralph  ventured  to  remark  that  they  would  have  ar- 
rived a  day  or  two  sooner  had  not  his  host  been  de- 
tained by  affairs  almost  to  the  moment  of  starting. 

"How's  that?"  she  asked  shrilly,  bending  forward 
and  putting  her  hand  trumpet-wise  to  her  ear. 

When  Ralph  repeated  his  remark  she  leaned  back 
in  her  chair  and  said : 

"Umph !    I  know  Isaac." 

Comment  was  a  habit  of  speech  with  her.  From  her 
laconic  manner  Ralph  concluded  a  deal  of  her  conver- 
sation was  mutely  with  herself.  At  times  she  indulged 
in  sudden  unexpected  outbursts  of  speech  as  though 
her  pent-up  cogitations  had  passed  control. 

At  dinner  when  the  master  of  the  Manse  was  re- 
counting his  experiences  in  New  York  and  describing 
the  political  condition  of  the  country  she  interrupted 
with: 

"Of  course  I  know  nothing  of  the  matter"  (this  was  a 
favorite  preface  of  her's  to  all  dogmatic  utterances) 
"but  you  can't  convince  me  that  all  this  rumpus  and 
fightin'  doesn't  come  from  the  laziness  of  men  these 
days.  They'd  rayther  gad  around  and  break  one  an- 


82  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

other's  heads  than  stick  to  their  business  as  God  in- 
tended them.  Look  at  Will  Breed  and  the  gang  of  idle 
loafers  he  has  gathered  around  him.  They  haven't  paid 
rent  nor  done  a  stroke  of  work  for  nigh  on  a  year,  yet 
they  think  they've  got  excuse  enough  going  around 
the  country  telling  other  people  how  they  ought  to  be 
discontented  and  arguing  them  into  a  state  of  disorder. 
In  my  days  it  was  the  duty  of  a  man  to  look  after  his 
family  and  meet  his  obligations.  Now  it  doesn't  mat- 
ter if  only  he  stands  around  enough  and  curses  the 
King.  No  wonder  the  country's  in  a  bad  way.  Mark 
my  words  it  will  be  worse  yet,  and  I  know  who'll  be  to 
blame." 

It  was  customary  not  to  pay  any  verbal  attention  to 
these  outbursts.  The  old  lady  seemed  to  be  rather  grat- 
ified than  otherwise  by  the  absence  of  reply. 

She  didn't  hear  the  remark  made  by  Jacob  Lorn,  who 
sat  at  the  other  side  of  the  table. 

"Women  are  naturally  slaves." 

He  uttered  this  indolently  as  though  weary  himself 
of  the  conclusion. 

"Uncle  Jacob,"  said  Helen  calmly,  "I'm  surprised 
even  that  melon  doesn't  sweeten  your  remarks." 

"It  is  excellent,  Helen,"  conceded  the  gentleman 
slowly,  filling  his  mouth  as  he  spoke,  "but  a  melon  is  a 
type  of  woman.  You  cannot  tell  by  any  known  out- 
ward sign  the  sweet  from  the  insipid,  the  fruit  from  the 
turnip  or  how  the  one  or  the  other  will  in  the  end  af- 
fect your  system." 

"You  may  well  guess,  Ralph,"  said  Scott,  laughing, 


THE  MANSE  AND  ITS  ITS  INMATES  83 

"that  Uncle  Jacob  is  not  exactly  an  admirer  of  the  fair 
sex  as  you  and  I  are,  my  boy,  Eh?" 

"Only  the  young  man  and  the  middle-age  gallant," 
continued  Uncle  Lorn  in  his  imperturbed  manner,  turn- 
ing to  Ralph,  "fool  themselves  with  illusions  about 
women.  I  said  a  moment  ago  Woman  was  naturally  a 
slave.  I  don't  contradict  myself  now  when  I  add 
Woman"  is  a  tyranny.  A  man  can  work  through  every 
other  delusion  of  life  and  come  out  somewhere  on  the 
other  side  in  fair  possession  of  himself,  but  there  is  no 
escape,  sir,  none,  for  the  man  who  once  falls  under  the 
domination  of  that  absolutism  of  whim  and  feeling 
called  Woman." 

"You  speak  very  positively,  sir,"  said  Ralph,  to 
whom  these  utterances  had  a  fresher  sound  than  to 
others  at  the  table. 

"The  study  of  Woman  has  been  the  labor  of  my  life," 
Lorn  replied  in  his  tone  of  assurance.  "I  am  busy  now 
with  a  book  on  the  subject." 

"The  misogynist  with  his  counterblast  down  the  old 
home  chimney  is  not  a  new  character,"  said  Ralph,  who 
was  inwardly  irritated  as  the  young  ever  are  when  the 
natural  aspirations  of  youth  are  cut  across  the  grain. 

"My  work  rests  upon  a  new  basis,"  said  Lorn  simply. 

"I  thought  all  such  doctrine  rested  upon  an  old 
basis,"  said  Ralph,  "a  basis  of  say  fifty  years  of  life." 

"Ha !  Ha !"  roared  Scott,  "that  strikes  you,  Jacob, 
within  three  years." 

Ralph  hastened  to  disclaim  any  personal  direction 
to  his  remark. 


#4  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

""No, 'no,"  he  continued.  "I  had  in  mind  merely  the 
idea  that  any  misogynist's  views  are  in  general  a  dys- 
pepsia of  middle  age." 

"Or  the  acidity  of  early  mistakes,"  suggested  Lorn, 
sarcastically.  "You  are  not  married?"  he  continued, 
rising. 

"No,"  replied  Ralph. 

Despite  himself,  Ralph's  face  flushed. 

"Ah !"  cried  Lom,  sardonically,  his  small  white  teeth 
glistening  in  his  dirty-colored  round  face.  "The  red 
flag  of  love!  Eh?  My  lady's  emissary  is  already  ar- 
rived. The  peasant  of  our  dull  days  is  promised  a  new 
heaven  and  a  new  earth  in  exchange  for  his  clayey 
acres.  Dear,  dear,  how  easily  we  are  intoxicated  upon 
the  ferment  of  the  old  ditch-water !  The  idea  that  hap- 
piness is  centred  in  a  vertigo !  That  the  lost  voices  of 
life  speak  at  last  in  a  month's  delirium!  Eh?  Better 
get  drunk  on  Jamaica  toddy,  The  after  effect  is  less  dis- 
tressing. 

After  this  outburst  Lom  taciturnly  shuffled  out  of  the 
room. 

Scott  bade  Helen  fill  Ralph's  glass. 

"You'll  find  Burgundy  the  best  antidote  for  that  sour 
stuff,  Ralph,"  he  cried.  "You  mustn't  mind  Jacob. 
Here  we  all  are  used  to  him.  He  doesn't  sound  so  of- 
fensive when  you  know  him.  He  represents  the  imbe- 
cility of  an  idea." 

"Father,  Uncle  Jacob  is  intolerable  at  times." 

"Oh!"  said  Ralph.  "An  opinion  is  not  necessarily 
anything  more." 


THE  MANSE  AND  ITS  INMATES  8$ 

"Good !"  cried  Scott,  who  was  growing  jovial.  "And 
as  Socrates  thought  a  purgation  necessary  after  speak- 
ing impiously  of  love,  let  us,  Ralph,  offer  a  recantation 
for  our  friend's  heresy  by  drinking  to  Woman." 

"The  ideal  of  love !"  exclaimed  Ralph,  laughing. 

"The  divine !"  cried  Scott,  lifting  his  glass. 

"You  are  two  very  foolish  men,"  said  Helen,  good- 
naturedly.  "Come,  mother,  let  me  help  you  upstairs." 

"Isaac,  what  are  you  talking  of?"  asked  Mrs.  Scott, 
aroused  by  the  hilarity. 

"Of  Woman,  my  dear,"  answered  Scott. 

"You  ought  to  know  better,  your  daughter  present 
and  this  young  man." 

"We  were  treating  her  from  the  purely  poetical 
standpoint,  my  dear,  as  women  should  ever  be  treated. 
Eh,  Helen?"  exclaimed  Scott,  winking  his  little  black 
eyes  first  at  Helen  and  then  at  Ralph,  as  he  drained 
his  glass. 

Ralph  surprised  himself  by  the  rapidity  with  which 
he  acquired  a  sense  of  domestic  settlement  at  the 
Manse.  He  was  compelled  more  than  once  to  remind 
himself  that  he  was  only  a  visitor  and  that  his  relation- 
ship to  the  family  was  of  an  exceedingly  short  and  cas- 
ual character.  Yet  the  master  of  the  house  treated  him 
with  almost  the  confidence  and  familiarity  of  a  parent. 
The  mistress  with  few  preliminaries  involved  him  in  her 
ceaseless  petty  reminiscences — then  pleased  to  the  ex- 
treme by  his  deference,  pronounced  him  "an  uncommon 
young  man."  Helen,  tirelessly  occupied  supervising 
house  and  farm,  gave  him  a  frank  welcome  whenever 


86  THE    HEART    OF    WOMAN 

he  joined  her  in  the  gardens,  at  the  barns  or  on  the 
lawn  at  the  rear  of  the  house,  overlooking  the  river, 
where  she  frequently  sat  in  the  afternoons  sewing.  Per- 
haps it  was  a  certain  looseness  in  the  household  life  that 
made  it  so  easy  and  seemingly  so  natural  for  him  to  find 
a  place.  Even  Uncle  Jacob  accepted  him  in  his  indif- 
ferent style. 

"The  only  difficulty  with  you  at  present,  Mr.  Ten- 
nant,"  he  said,  "is  you  are  so  hopelessly  young." 

When  Ralph  replied,  "That  is  a  defect  which  soon 
remedies  itself,"  the  older  man  sighed. 

Ralph  frequently  visited  Lorn,  who  was  not  a  resi- 
dent of  the  Manse.  He  lived  in  a  dilapidated,  ancient 
farmhouse  not  far  from  the  negro  settlement.  He  was 
a  distant  relative  of  Mrs.  Scott's  and  was  "uncled"  in 
the  family  by  courtesy,  not  by  right.  He  was  an  intel- 
lectual outcast — professed  himself  an  atheist,  a  pessi- 
mist, a  contemner  of  many  established  facts.  He  was 
a  solitary  by  choice.  A  half-breed  squaw  managed  his 
household,  mutely  served  him  and  struggled,  against 
his  wishes,  to  keep  his  effects  in  some  degree  of  order 
and  the  decayed  house  and  grounds  in  some  sort  of 
habited  appearance. 

At  times,  for  days  and  even  weeks,  no  one  but  she 
would  see  him  or  know  where  he  was.  Then  for  a  pe- 
riod he  would  visit  the  Manse  frequently,  and  after- 
ward without  a  word  disappear. 

He  was  a  tireless  reader.  He  sat  all  day  with  his 
books.  In  the  twilight  he  was  accustomed  to  stroll  up 
and  down  in  front  of  his  house,  always  keeping  to  the 


THE  MANSE  AND  ITS  INMATES  87 

middle  of  the  highway.  The  Indians,  negroes  and  whites 
made  him  the  subject  of  legends  and  stories,  many  of  a 
discreditable  order. 

Lom's  true  history  Ralph  never  learned.  A  certain 
reticence  on  the  part  of  those  who  presumably  were  ac- 
quainted with  his  life  seemed  to  hint  at  some  capital  er- 
ror in  the  background.  He  never  spoke  of  the  past 
himself.  *No  recollections  or  experiences  betrayed  him. 
Only  by  rare  momentary  preoccupations,  by  an  occa- 
sional tone  or  glance  could  the  most  careful  scrutinizer 
divine  that  at  times  the  shadows  were  before  him  and 
their  distant  voices  in  his  ears. 

With  Helen  only  was  he  invariably  complaisant.  He 
never  denied  himself  to  her  visits.  He  submitted  with 
a  strange  docility  to  her  wishes.  One  day  when  she 
made  him  a  call  with  Ralph,  in  the  course  of  which  she 
admonished  him  for  some  personal  untidiness,  he  stood 
for  a  moment  before  her  like  a  child,  and  when  she  ex- 
claimed, 'There!  Isn't  that  better?"  when  she  had  fin- 
ished sewing  on  a  button  he  said  softly : 

"God  made  you,  Helen,  you  busy  bee,  to  atone  for  a 
million  other  errors." 

For  days  Ralph  drifted — riding,  visiting,  making 
himself  useful  to  Helen  whenever  she  would  permit 
him.  In  the  middle  of  the  week  Scott  wandered  off  to 
make  a  visit  to  the  Schuylers. 

Gen.  Schuyler  was  the  head  of  the  patriot  movement 
in  the  region  and  at  that  moment  was  about  to  begin 
military  operations  against  Sir  John  Johnson  at  John- 
son Hall,  who,  despite  his  pledge  previously  given,  had 


88  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

been  actively  organizing  armed  resistance  in  the  Mo- 
hawk valley  on  the  behalf  of  the  British  King. 

After  parting  from  Brant  at  Poughkeepsie  Ralph 
had  recounted  to  Scott  the  episode  with  the  letter  on 
board  the  sloop.  Scott  in  his  fiery  way  declared  it  was 
.perfectly  clear  Brant  was  a  British  spy  and  an  emissary 
of  that  scoundrel  Whitehead.  Ralph  objected  to  that 
view. 

"I  can't  see  it,"  he  said.  "If  so,  why  should  this  Mon- 
roe warn  me  against  supposed  danger?" 

"You  Tory  bat!"  exclaimed  Scott,  "why — why — well 
— I'll  tell  you  why.  Because,  sir,  their  game  is  always 
underhand.  That  fellow  is  part  of  the  trap.  They  don't 
want  you,  of  course.  It's  me  they're  after.  Well,  good 
luck  to  them  if  they  can  catch  me.  I  can  imagine  I'm 
a  thorn  in  their  side.  Let's  read  the  letter." 

"On  suspicion  merely?"  asked  Ralph. 

"Oh,  I've  no  scruples  in  dealing  with  those  con- 
founded rascals.  If  you  have  why  destroy  it." 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Ralph,  "I  have  a  strong  inclin- 
ation to  deliver  it." 

Scott  looked  steadily  at  Ralph. 

"I  wouldn't  make  a  fool  of  myself  and  think  it  was 
something  grand." 

"Do  you  believe  anything  of  what  Monroe  told  me?" 
asked  Ralph. 

"Not  a word,"  was  the  reply. 

"Well,  then,"  concluded  Ralph,  "I'll  keep  the  letter 
until  we  arrive  at  the  Manse.  Is  it  far  from  Johnson 
Hall?" 


THE  MANSE  AND  ITS  INMATES  89 

"No,"  Scott  replied.  "Helen,  my  daughter,  often 
made  the  trip  when  Sir  William  Johnson  was  alive." 

At  the  Manse  Ralph's  first  inquiry  was  regarding 
Johnson.  Mr.  Scott  learned  that  the  baronet  was  not 
at  the  Hall.  He  couldn't  discover  Sir  Johnson's  exact 
whereabouts  at  the  moment. 

"In  a  day  or  two  I  shall  know,"  he  said,  "when  I  have 
seen  my  friend,  Gen.  Schuyler.  You  are  not  thinking 
of  that  confounded  letter,  are  you,  Ralph?" 

"Well,"  replied  Ralph,  "I  am  not  exactly  thinking 
about  it.  I  have  decided  to  deliver  it." 

That  "decision"  has  a  little  history. 

When  questioning  Helen  regarding  the  Johnsons 
one  afternoon,  sitting  on  the  lawn,  Ralph  told  her  the 
story  of  the  letter  and  her  father's  notion  of  the  exist- 
ence of  a  plot. 

"A  plot!  Another  plot!"  she  said  as  she  paused  in 
her  sewing.  "I  am  really  tired  of  hearing  of  plots. 
Every  farmer  who  happens  to  return  home  by  an  un- 
accustomed road  is  at  once  suspected  of  something. 
It  is  all  very  foolish.  People  who  have  been  living  to- 
gether in  this  part  of  the  country,  knowing  and  respect- 
ing one  another  for  a  generation,  have  suddenly  taken 
it  into  their  heads  that  half  of  the  community  are  vil- 
lains. Everybody  is  acquainted  with  the  Johnsons.  Sir 
William  Johnson  for  years  was  one  of  our  most  impor- 
tant public  men  and  officially  he  was  certainly  highly 
considered.  His  son,  Sir  John  Johnson,  hasn't  the  old- 
er man's  astuteness,  but  he  impresses  me  as  a  gentle- 
man much  above  any  dirty  work.  My  cousin  lives  at 


9O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Johnstown.  She  and  her  husband  say  Sir  Johnson  is 
a  man  of  great  kindness.  It  is  so  easy  to  suspect  peo- 
ple, Mr.  Tennant,  and  give  them  bad  names." 

"Then  you  would  advise  the  delivery  of  that  letter?" 

"I  see  no  reason  for  any  other  course.  You  can  send 
the  letter  by  messenger.  My  cousin  and  her  husband 
are  visiting  in  Albany  now.  When  they  return  in  a  day 
or  two,  I  am  sure  they  will  take  the  letter  for  you. 
Father  has  got  you  into  a  fog.  What  do  you  suppose 
could  happen  from  so  simple  a  matter?" 

Ralph  was  a  little  nettled  by  the  young  lady's  plain 
ideas. 

"No!  no!"  he  said.  "Your  father  is  not  to  be 
charged  with  obscuring  my  views.  Your  suggestion 
of  a  messenger  would  work  admirably  were  I  not 
bound  to  deliver  the  letter  personally." 

"Well,  if  you  promised  to  deliver  it  yourself,  do  so, 
although  Johnson  Hall  is,  perhaps,  fifty  miles  from  here 
— some  say  less,  some  more.  But  the  journey  is  pleas- 
ant at  this  time  of  the  year.  I  wouldn't  mind  it  myself 
if  Susanna  and  Chris  were  ready.  At  any  rate,  if  you'll 
wait  a  few  days  no  doubt  you  can  have  their  company. 
Christopher  Gist  you'll  find  a  fine  fellow  and  Susanna 
a  pleasant  girl,  if  you'll  take  ordinary  country  people 
like  ourselves  at  their  country  value." 

"Miss  Helen,  you're  most  disrespectful  to  yourself 
and  your  family,"  said  Ralph. 

"Mr.  Tennant,  remember  you  promised  to  drop  mere 
language." 

"I'll  stick  to  it,"  replied  Ralph  gayly,  "and  promise 


THE  MANSE  AND  ITS  INMATES  9 1 

anything  else  you  ask  for  if  you  will  introduce  me  to 
your  cousins  and  join  the  party  yourself.    Will  you?" 

"I'll  see,"  said  Helen,  cautiously.  "When  Chris  was 
here  last  week  he  begged  me  to  make  a  visit.  They 
have  just  finished  their  new  home,  and  I  have  a  wo- 
man's curiosity  to  see  it." 


CHAPTER  X. 
THE  PRELUDE  IN  THE  WOODS. 

WHEN  Scott  was  told  that  Helen  contemplated  a  trip 
to  Johnstown  with  her  cousins  and  Ralph  he  forbade 
the  project  excitedly  and  denounced  it  as  imprudent 
and  even  dangerous  in  the  highest  degree. 

"Gen.  Schuyler,"  he  said,  "has  given  me  the  latest 
particulars  of  Sir  Johnson's  'doings.' ' 

Clearly  these  stories  had  greatly  incensed  the  little 
man  against  the  baronet.  He  assumed  the  air  of  one 
in  authority.  Even  with  Schuyler  himself,  he  demand- 
ed loudly  the  arrest  of  the  "titled  Judas."  He  pictured 
Johnson  Hall  as  a  "Sodom  of  Toryism,"  and  declared 
the  military  would  be  held  responsible  if  forthwith  the 
place  was  not  wiped  out.  He  greatly  excited  himself 
but  he  stirred  nobody.  The  Johnsons  had  many  friends, 
and  Schuyler  was  loath  to  take  any  step  that  might 
provoke  bloodshed.  He  had  written  a  letter  of  expos- 
tulation to  the  baronet,  which  he  believed  would  re- 
move the  necessity  of  despatching  troops  to  Johnstown. 
The  "moderates"  were  satisfied  with  the  situation.  Few 
believed  that  Johnson  would  provoke  armed  hostilities. 

"I  know  Sir  Johnson,"  drawled  Christopher  Gist,  a 
tall,  bony,  fair-haired  countryman,  who  had  imbibed 
from  his  fields  the  spirit  of  the  slow  processes  of  na- 
ture; "he  won't  do  nawthin'  beyond  saving  his  dignity. 
He  wants  to  stand  well  with  government  and  keep 


THE  PRELUDE  IN  THE   WOODS,  93 

up  the  family  traditions,  that's  all.  He  ain't  his  father 
by  more  than  his  years,  and  he  knows  he  would  have 
no  chance  if  the  people  around  here  tells  him  to  quit. 
Of  course,  he's  parleying  with  the  Indians,  but  there's 
nawthin'  to  that  but  talk." 

Chris's  slow  ways  acted  like  pepper  on  Scott's  nerves. 
While  Chris  was  talking  Scott's  fingers  were  busy 
bristling  what  little  hair  remained  on  his  head. 

"Phew !"  cried  Scott,  unable  to  contain  himself,  "you 
haven't  the  slightest,  the  remotest  idea  of  what  you're, 
talking  about.  Egad,  Chris,  I  hope  your  judgment  on 
farming  is  sounder  than  on  politics.  Let  me  tell  you 
I  shall  have  something  to  say  in  this  matter.  Johnson 
is  a  dangerous  man.  His  instincts  are  criminal.  We 
clipped  his  wings  once  and  now,  by  gad,  it's  time  to 
shoot  him.  Mark  my  words,  Dayton  will  be  after  him 
before  the  end  of  the  week." 

"I  guess  you've  been  mistaken  before,"  said  Chris. 

"Come !  come !"  said  Helen.  "Isn't  all  this  unneces- 
sary? We  have  nothing  to  do  with  Sir  Johnson,  and, 
as  to  Mr.  Tennant,  he  has  only  to  deliver  a  letter — the 
duty  of  a  few  minutes.  I  am  sure  people  are  not  going 
to  let  passion  guide  them.  Gen.  Schuyler  and  Sir  John- 
son are  too  sensible  to  settle  differences  by  blows." 

"But  what  the  d — what,  in  Heaven's  name,  Helen,  is 
the  sense  of  marching  right  into  trouble?" 

"None  at  all,  father;  on  the  other  hand,  why  should 
we  suppose  that  our  peaceful  people  are  about  to  go  on 
the  warpath  like  a  tribe  of  drunken  Mohawks?  Don't 
you  think  it's  a  mistake  to  be  thinking  and  talking  of 


94  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

fighting?  It  seems  to  me  that  is  the  surest  way  of 
bringing  on  trouble.  The  sanest  course  is  to  go  about 
our  business  quietly  and  take  it  for  granted  that  other 
people  are  doing  the  same." 

Everyone  at  the  Manse  agreed  that  Scott  greatly 
exaggerated  the  situation;  even  outside  among  his 
friends  Scott  found  it  difficult  to  meet  anybody  who 
shared  his  sanguinary  fervor. 

Preparations  were  made,  and  early  one  glorious 
morning  near  the  end  of  May  the  little  cavalcade — 
Chris  and  his  wife,  Helen  and  Ralph — set  out  joyfully 
from  the  Manse. 

Whenever  Ralph  spoke  to  me  of  this  trip  he  termed 
it  "the  prelude  in  the  woods,"  The  wild,  unknown 
country,  the  beauty  of  forest  land  and  stream,  the  still- 
ness of  unfrequented  paths,  the  scents  and  colors  of 
May,  intoxicated  him.  He  said  the  past  seemed  as 
by  magic  to  fall  behind  him  into  a  remoter  period.  Long 
before  the  party  reached  the  little  village  of  Schenec- 
tady  he  found  it  impossible  to  believe  that  but  a  short 
time  ago  he  was  walking  the  streets  of  New  York.  The 
events  of  the  month  past  were  more  like  a  story  told 
him  than  his  own  experience,  and  far  off,  at  an  incalcu- 
lable distance,  he  surveyed  the  picture  of  it  all. 

"This  trip,"  said  Ralph  gayly,  as  the  road  entered  the 
forest,  "reminds  me  of  those  journeys  undertaken  in 
old  times  by  knights  and  ladies  in  search  of  adventure. 
Doesn't  this  recall  to  you  some  of  Spenser's  stories?" 

"No,"  said  Helen  prosaically;  "I  haven't  read  Spen- 


THE  PRELUDE  IN  THE  WOODS  9$ 

ser.  I  am  so  ignorant  as  not  to  have  heard  of  him  be- 
fore." 

Ralph's  learning  was  still  in  the  callow  stage  and 
given  to  essay  its  wings. 

"Still,  you  like  poetry?"  he  urged. 

"No,"  she  said  promptly,  "at  least  only  in  a  certain 
way.  My  chief  objection  is  it  substitutes  imaginary 
feelings  and  interests  for  real  ones.  I  can't  applaud 
people  who  spend  their  time  indulging  in  mock  senti- 
ments. I  suppose  I  am  deficient.  There  is  so  much 
beauty  in  the  world  that  nobody  pays  the  least  atten- 
tion to.  As  to  heroism  and  adventure,  there's  more  in 
merely  paying  one's  debt  than  the  average  person  is 
capable  of?" 

"You  are  a  great  girl  for  wanting  to  get  things  on  the 
paying  basis!"  exclaimed  Ralph.  "I  believe  if  you 
could  you'd  turn  all  our  fine  feelings  into  good  work- 
ing horses." 

"Yes,  I  would,"  said  Helen  stoutly.  "The  most  self- 
ish person  going  is  your  man  or  woman  of  fine  feeling. 
They  are  always  running  into  sunsets  and  moonlights 
and  after  somebody  else's  poor  dog.  They  have  a  fine 
sense  for  everything  except  their  own  day's  work.  Real- 
ly, isn't  there  something  finer  in  a  dirty. duty  stuck  to 
than  in  knights  and  ladies  and  adventures  that  have 
nothing  to  do  with  real  life?" 

"Why,  of  course,"  answered  Ralph,  laughing,  "there 
is  something  fine  in  all  other  forms  of  personal  morti- 
fication." 

"You  are  making  fun  of  me,"  said  Helen,  abashed. 


90  THE    HEART    OF    WOMAN 

Like  all  persons  who  rarely  exhibit  their  feelings,  sHe 
was  sensitive. 

They  were  proceeding  side  by  side.  Chris  and  Su- 
sanna were  jogging  on  silently  in  front.  Ralph  im- 
pulsively took  Helen's  hand  in  his. 

"Believe  me,"  he  said,  "I  am  laughing,  but  not  at 
you.  You — you  know  it's  so  queer  to  see  you  bowling 
over  my  old  ideas  like  so  many  pins.  You  always  do. 
Yet  it  all  seems  right,  and  I  feel  too  lazily  happy  to-day 
to  set  them  up  again." 

Helen  withdrew  her  hand  quietly  from  Ralph's  pos- 
session. She  was  blushing,  and  struggled  with  an  ef- 
fort to  hide  her  confusion. 

That  afternoon  the  travelers  rested  at  a  rough  farm- 
house belonging  to  one  of  Chris's  friends,  and  remained 
there  until  morning.  It  had  the  sad,  forgotten  look  of 
an  outpost.  There  was  an  air  of  painful  human  strug- 
gle in  the  contrast  between  the  lean  cultivation  of  the 
half-cleared  fields  and  the  strong  luxuriance  of  wild 
nature.  Here  Ralph  caught  his  first  glimpse  of  the 
world  that  had  tutored  Helen.  In  the  hard  work  of  the 
household,  in  the  hardships  of  a  pioneer's  life  cheerfully 
accepted,  in  unconscious  kindness,  in  wealth  created 
of  pitifully  small  means,  in  the  unmeditated  poetry  of 
dull  lives,  Ralph  saw  something  of  the  fine  meaning  un- 
derlying Helen's  prosaic  philosophy.  He  thought  he 
understood — and  the  black  and  white  of  the  drab  pic- 
ture glowed  with  color.  For  Helen  there  was  no  color 
in  it,  nor  did  her  appreciation  of  the  facts  need  any. 
Therein  lay  the  difference  of  temperaments. 


THE  PRELUDE  IN   THE   WOODS  97 

In  the  evening  as  they  were  strolling  about  the  farm 
Ralph  said: 

"I  understand  now  what  you  were  saying  this  morn- 
ing." Then  he  tried  to  explain. 

"How  you  do  heighten  things!"  she  said,  smiling. 
"I  had  no  intention  of  throwing  such  a  grand  air  about 
such  little  matters.  How  else  would  you  have  people 
act?" 

"Then  I  am  all  wrong  again,"  he  said,  "and  my  pion- 
eer farmer  is  as  false  as  my  mediaeval  knight." 

"I  didn't  say  either  was  wrong,"  she  replied.  "I  sup- 
pose it  is  your  way  of  looking  at  things.  That  is  the 
right  way — for  you." 

The  next  night  they  slept  in  the  newly  built  Gist 
homestead.  It  stood  a  little  outside  the  village  of 
Johnstown,  and  spoke  indubitably  of  Chris's  frugality 
and  skill.  Chris  was  a  born  pioneer,  hardened  in  mind 
and  body  to  the  last  degree.  It  was  said  that  wherever 
he  trod  the  weeds  died.  His  mellow  acres  and  trim 
home  bore  witness  to  the  truth  of  the  saying.  His  wife, 
Susanna,  was  a  blank  round-faced  woman  in  whom  na- 
ture had  reduced  all  the  issues  of  life  to  one  term — toil. 
She  had,  apparently,  no  ideas,  no  desires — she  worked. 
She  accepted  the  days  as  they  came  without  the  slight- 
est question  and  grew  a  little  stouter  and  a  little  less 
shapely  every  year. 

I  am  setting  down  these  dull  facts  because  there  was 
a  new  principle  in  them  for  Ralph.  By  some  alchemy 
of  contrast  it  worked  upon  him. 

Life  hitherto  had  been  too  suave   and    easy    with 


98  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Ralph  to  raise  any  vital  appeal  to  his  sense  of  duty. 
Duty  had  been  as  yet  only  an  idle  idea  with  him. 
He  felt  something  invigorating  now  in  the  new 
scenes  he  had  entered.  Helen  seemed  to  be  the  incar- 
nated spirit  of  this  life  of  plain  purpose  and  dull  strain 
that  produced  a  fine  human  dignity  in  homespun  and 
endowed  the  daily  commonplaces  with  a  voice  of  song. 
It  was  reaction,  undoubtedly;  delusion  in  some  meas- 
ure perhaps;  nevertheless  the  fact  remained  that 
Ralph's  new  surroundings  affected  him  powerfully  and 
in  the  end  Helen  in  the  midst  of  them  played  the  part 
of  a  Calypso  enchanting  him  with  the  humble  joys  of 
life.  He  never  for  a  moment  recognized  that  only  the 
facts  that  were  appealing  to  him  were  Helen's;  the 
spirit  of  his  admiration  was  a  part  of  his  nature  over 
which  Catrina  silently  ruled.  Often  the  image  of  Ca- 
trina  flashed  before  him,  a  soft,  wistful,  appealing  im- 
age, always  very  close  to  him  indeed,  but  still,  now 
something  of  a  picture,  a  vague  ideal,  a  dream,  the  hail 
of  a  far-off  desire  compared  with  Helen's  vigorous  real- 
ity. Attraction,  sentiment,  the  habit  of  old  things  led 
his  thoughts  again  and  again  back  to  Catrina,  but  his 
admiration  was  Helen's,  and  she  became  associated 
with  ever  so  many  new  busy  possibilities  for  his  life. 
The  truth  is,  speaking  personally  of  Ralph,  he  was 
walking  during  those  days  in  a  delusion,  heedless  of  his 
own  nature,  ignoring  the  past,  even  with  a  certain 
careless  wilfulness  offending  but  never  silencing  the 
half-conscious  sentiment  which  had  struggled  for  a 
voice  in  the  orchard.  It  was  the  confusion  of  youth, 


THE  PRELUDE  IN  THE  WOODS  99 

youth's  blindness,  its  wayward  treatment  of  the  logic 
of  life. 

Ralph  watched  with  delight  Helen's  enthusiasm  over 
the  new  home  and  Chris's  silent  pride  as  he  showed  his 
visitors  about  the  place. 

The  new  farmhouse  was  a  two-story  structure,  built 
partly  of  recently  felled  logs.  Three  little  dormer  win- 
dows peeped  out  of  the  roof,  close  up  to  the  edge  of 
the  eaves.  The  big  red  brick  chimney  climbed  up  the 
outside  of  one  of  the  end  walls.  The  entrance,  with  its 
Dutch  door  swinging  in  halves,  was  hooded  with  rough 
shingles  and  flanked  by  a  pair  of  rough  columns  and 
two  fixed  wooden  benches.  This  embellishment  had 
cost  Chris  a  deal  of  labor.  The  well  stood  in  front  of 
the  house  with  its  bucket  swinging  high  on  a  long 
pole.  The  base  of  the  building  was  heavily  banked 
with  earth  to  exclude  the  winter  cold. 

"Now,"  said  Helen  to  her  cousin,  "when  I  am  away 
I  can  picture  you  sitting  evenings  in  this  cozy  porch  as 
though  I  was  with  you.  It  is  just  right  for  the  shade  of 
those  trees.  Isn't  it?  And  this  kitchen,  Susanna,  isn't 
it  exactly  what  you  wanted?  You  won't  have  to  go  out 
of  doors  any  more  to  the  wood  pile.  Isn't  it  all  beau- 
tiful, Mr.  Tennant?" 

It  was  the  triumph  of  the  Hand.  Ralph  joined  heart- 
ily in  the  paean,  for  there  was  something  infinitely 
touching  in  this  humble  work  of  the  homely  instincts. 
He  felt  how  sweet  and  wholesome  the  common  parts  of 
humanity  may  be. 

To  his  hosts,  and  to  Helen  also,  he  was  the  guest  of 


IOO  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

honor.  They  treated  him  as  though  aware  of  the  fact 
he  was  condescending  to  rough  ways.  Chris  provided 
extraordinary  provender.  Susanna  put  forth  all  her 
skill  at  the  big  kitchen  fire.  Ralph  insisted  upon  help- 
ing Helen  set  the  table  in  the  rude,  unptastered  kitchen 
with  its  small  square  windows. 

They  lingered  over  the  meal  in  the  still  twilight. 
Accompanying  the  liquid  evening  song  of  the  wood- 
birds  there  was  something  like  music  in  the  air  which 
was  well  attuned  to  Ralph's  voice  as  he  told  his  hushed 
auditors  of  the  far-off  world  he  had  seen  and  in  truth 
belonged  to.  Chris  and  Susanna  were  awed. 

"Are  people  happier  there?"  asked  Helen  finally. 
She  on  her  part  felt  a  stranger  moving  among  her  old 
thoughts. 

"Nothing  can  be  happier  than  this,"  said  Ralph. 


CHAPTER  XI. 
THE  DELIVERY  OF  THE  LETTER. 

THE  following  afternoon  Ralph  started  for  Johnson 
Hall.  He  had  questioned  Chris  about  the  baronet  and 
was  no'w  firmly  of  the  opinion  that  there  was  not  the 
slightest  reason  for  distrust.  Helen  decided  to  accom- 
pany him  on  his  visit.  She  was  on  terms  of  intimacy 
with  Johnson  and  his  wife,  and  always  made  them  a 
call  when  in  Johnstown. 

The  Hall  stood  about  half  a  mile  north  of  the  village, 
on  a  slight  eminence.  As  Ralph  approached  the  man- 
sion he  noted  with  surprise  its  stateliness  and  extent, 
and  the  unexpected  beauty  of  its  surroundings.  The 
buildings  at  first  sight  appeared  to  be  of  stone,  but  that 
was  only  a  semblance.  The  main  edifice  was  con- 
structed of  clapboards,  though  the  two  detached 
wings,  one  on  each  side,  were  really  built  of  stone,  and 
being  pierced  at  the  top  for  musketry,  possessed  a  de- 
cidedly martial  appearance.  The  gardens  were  finely 
kept  and  the  nursery  on  the  southern  side  gave  addi- 
tional testimony  of  the  owner's  refined  taste. 

At  first  Ralph's  attention  was  given  wholly  to  these 
matters.  Presently  he  observed  in  the  rear  of  the  house 
signs  of  commotion.  A  number  of  men  were  hurrying 
to  and  fro.  As  Ralph  and  Helen  neared  the  front  door 
one  of  them  ran  around  and  excitedly  in  a  Scotch  ac- 
cent demanded  their  mission. 


IO2  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

The  man's  peremptory  manner  annoyed  Ralph. 

"Suppose  you  allow  me  to  state  that  myself  when 
the  door  is  opened,"  said  Ralph. 

"No  door'll  be  opened  to  you  this  day,"  said  the  fel- 
low. "You  had  better  be  away  with  your  lady." 

"Do  you  bring  this  from  Sir  Johnson,"  asked  Ralph, 
"or  is  it  your  own  impudence?" 

"Ain't  I  telling  you  the  master's  too  busy  to  be 
sending  messages  to  anybody?  Go  home!  That's  the 
proper  place  for  you." 

"Get  out  of  the  way  or  I'll  lay  this  whip  across  you !" 
cried  Ralph,  angered  by  the  man's  persistency. 

The  next  moment  he  had  dismounted,  assisted 
Helen  to  the  ground  and  knocked  at  the  door  loudly. 

No  one  answered. 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  to  be  going  away?  Little  heed 
they'll  give  to  your  clanging.  You're  an  obstinate  cal- 
lant." 

With  this  denial  at  the  doorway  the  situation  sud- 
denly took  on  a  new  phase. 

"Is  any  one  sick?  What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Ralph. 
"I  have  an  important  letter  for  Sir  Johnson,  and  this 
young  lady  is  a  friend  of  Lady  Johnson." 

The  Scotchman  eyed  Ralph  cautiously. 

"An  important  letter!  It's  just  possible,"  he  said 
slowly,  "but  with  the  sight  of  it  I'd  know." 

"Well,"  said  Ralph,  laughing,  "I  am  afraid,  my  good 
fellow,  your  doubts  must  remain  unsatisfied.  When  I 
see  Sir  Johnson  I  will  be  able  to  judge  how  far  you  are 
exceeding  your  instructions.  I  suppose,  Miss  Helen, 


THE  DELIVERY  OF  THE  LETTER          1 03 

there  is  nothing  to  be  done  but  make  our  way  home 
again." 

He  was  about  to  help  Helen  to  remount  when  the 
Scotchman  who  had  been  pondering  the  situation  said : 

"Hold  on!  I  may  be  wrong;  there  is  no  telling.  If 
you'll  bide  a  wee  and  give  me  your  message  I'll  see 
what  I  can  do  with  it.  But,  mind,  I  dare  promise  you 
nothing." 

"Well,"  said  Ralph,  beginning  to  take  the  strange 
position  good  humoredly,  "I  won't  hold  your  con- 
science to  account.  Tell  Sir  Johnson  a  gentleman  is 
waiting  his  pleasure  with  a  letter  from  Mr.  Whitehead 
Hicks.  Can  you  remember  that  name?" 

"I've  a  unique  memory  for  names  and  dates,"  said  the 
fellow  seriously. 

"Here,  here;  hold;  you  have  only  part  of  the  mes- 
sage. Tell  Lady  Johnson  Miss  Scott  has  given  herself 
the  pleasure  of  a  call." 

The  last  word  was  scarcely  uttered  before  the  man 
bolted  around  the  corner  of  the  house. 

"What's  up,  I  wonder?"  asked  Ralph  turning  to 
Helen. 

"It's  all  most  extraordinary,"  said  Helen.  "Quite  in- 
comprehensible. There  isn't  a  sign  of  life  in  the  front 
of  the  house.  Did  you  notice,  the  shutters  are  all 
closed?" 

Ralph  stepped  out  of  the  porch  and  was  surveying 
the  building  when  the  door  was  quickly  opened  by  the 
Scotchman  who  first  accosted  them. 

"You  may  walk  in,"  he  said,  slowly,  and  with  a  man- 


IO4  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

ner  much  subdued.  "If  you'll  be  pleased  to  step  into 
this  room  Sir  Johnson  and  my  lady  will  shortly  see 
you." 

The  two  visitors  were  conducted  to  the  end  of  a 
great  wainscoted  hall,  with  broad  staircase  and  mas- 
sive mahogany  balustrade,  to  a  little  room  which 
opened  on  to  the  side  of  the  house.  The  shutters  of 
this  room  were  closed  and  the  light  so  completely  ex- 
cluded that  the  furniture  was  scarcely  discernible. 

"I  suppose  I  ought  to  leave  the  door  open,"  said  the 
Scotchman,  doubtfully,  "but  perhaps " 

Fearing  a  change  of  mind  Ralph  broke  in: 

"Yes,  I'd  leave  the  door  open,  I'm  sure  that  is  right." 

"It  is  hard  to  be  sure  of  anything  these  days,"  said 
the  man,  departing. 

Helen  was  striving  to  control  her  laughter. 

"Oh !"  she  cried,  "this  is  a  most  ludicrous  situation, 
but  whether  I  ought  to  laugh  at  it  I  don't  know.  What 
does  it  mean?" 

Without,  in  the  big  hall,  there  was  not  a  sound  save 
the  slow  beat  of  a  clock  somewhere.  The  house  might 
have  been  deserted.  After  a  while  Ralph  heard  men's 
voices  in  a  distant  room.  By  and  by  an  elderly  woman 
came  quietly  down  the  stairs.  With  a  crippled 
curtsey  she  announced  that  her  ladyship  would  be 
pleased  to  receive  Miss  Scott  if  she'd  be  so  kind  as  to 
ascend  to  her  room. 

Left  alone,  Ralph  seated  himself  to  await  his  own 
reception.  He  was  detained  perhaps  another  ten  min- 
utes before  he  heard  the  opening  of  a  door  on  the  other 


THE  DELIVERY  OF  THE  LETTER         1O5 

side  of  the  hallway.  The  Scotchman  returned.  He 
was  bidden  to  conduct  Ralph  to  Sir  Johnson.  He  led 
Ralph  solemnly  through  the  hall  and  into  a  spacious 
parlor,  darkened  precisely  as  was  the  room  they  had 
just  left.  At  the  furthermost  end  of  the  apartment  was 
an  open  door,  partly  screened  by  heavy  curtains.  The 
only  light  the  room  received  strayed  through  this  door- 
way. 

The  Scotchman  drew  the  curtain  aside.  Ralph 
passed  through  the  entrance  and  found  himself  in  a 
lofty  library.  The  walls  were  wainscoted  with  mahog- 
any and  covered  with  books  in  rich  bindings.  A  table 
in  the  centre  was*  well  filled  with  bottles  and  glasses. 
Around  it,  in  various  attitudes  of  expectancy,  sat  three 
gentlemen. 

One  was  a  short,  stout,  pig-faced  man.  His  staring, 
small  black  eyes,  under  almost  invisible  brows,  scrutin- 
ized Ralph  boldly  as  he  entered.  He  wore  an  officer's 
uniform,  the  upper  buttons  of  which  were  undone  to 
facilitate  respiration.  Opposite  him  lolled  a  taller  man 
of  middle  age,  in  civilian  garb.  His  strong,  resolute 
melancholy  features  were  sadly  marred  by  a  purplish 
birthmark  and  a  large,  red  nose.  The  head  of  the  table 
was  possessed  by  a  man  younger  than  either  of  his  com- 
panions. The  aristocratic  effect  of  his  clean-cut  face, 
thin  lips  and  sharp,  intelligent  eyes  was  enhanced  by 
his  trim,  well-fitting,  powdered  wig.  Perhaps  he  gained 
something  by  contrast  with  the  less  refined  physiog- 
nomies of  his  associates.  He  rose  slowly  as  Ralph  en- 
tered, and  at  his  height  showed  a  tall,  shapely  figure. 


IO6  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  am  told  you  bring  a  letter  from  my  friend,  Mr. 
Hicks?"  he  said. 

"Then  I  have  the  honor  of  speaking  to  Sir  John 
Johnson?"  asked  Ralph. 

"I  would  return  the  compliment,  sir,"  said  Sir  John- 
son quietly,  "had  not  certain  extraordinary  circum- 
stances, which  I  trust  you'll  overlook,  deprived  me  of 
the  usual  formality  of  your  name?" 

Ralph  announced  himself. 

"Pray  be  seated,  Mr.  Tennant.  Allow  me  to  intro- 
duce my  two  friends — Col.  Claus,  Dr.  Bruce.  I  hope 
you'll  join  us.  There's  a  glass.  Bruce  please  pass  the 
bottle." 

The  two  gentlemen  returned  Ralph's  salutation; 
then,  without  another  word,  the  glasses  of  all  were 
rilled.  There  was  an  air  of  precision  in  the  reception. 
Ralph  perceived  that  Sir  Johnson  and  his  friends  alike 
were  in  stifled  excitement. 

"Coming  from  so  staunch  a  Tory  as  my  friend  Mr. 
Hicks,  I  suppose  I  needn't  hesitate  to  ask  you  to  join 
us  in  a  toast  to  the  King?"  said  Sir  Johnson. 

As  he  spoke  Johnson  elevated  his  heavy  eyebrows. 

"I'll  gladly  join  you,"  answered  Ralph  promptly. 

Johnson's  face  relaxed.  His  example  in  rising  to 
the  toast  was  followed  by  his  guests. 

"Now,  Mr.  Tennant,"  said  Johnson,  in  a  prompt 
tone,  as  the  party  reseated  themselves,  "our  time  here 
is  very  short.  I  must  press  you  for  your  business,  even 
at  the  expense  of  hospitality.  The  truth  is  we  have 
received  word  that  Col.  Dayton  and  a  large  force  is  on 


THE  DELIVERY  OF  THE  LETTER  IO7 

the  way  to  Johnson  Hall  to  commit  a  most  treasonable 
outrage.  Gen.  Schuyler  has  ordered  my  arrest.  As 
two  hundred  men  are  no  match  for  a  thousand  we  are 
compelled  for  the  time  being  to  flee  before  the  storm. 
If  you  had  delayed  your  visit  by  a  few  minutes  Mr. 
Hicks's  letter  would  not  have  reached  me." 

"In  dflivering  this,"  said  Ralph,  as  he  handed  the 
letter  to  Johnson,  "I  hoped  to  have  full  time  to  explain 
the  peculiar  circumstances  under  which,  as  you  see,  it 
was  opened.  Perhaps  it  will  suffice  now  if  I  assure  you 
the  outrage  was  committed  by  another,  and  that  nev- 
ertheless its  contents  remain  inviolate." 

A  noticeable  air  of  suppression  fell  upon  the  party 
when  Ralph  said  this. 

"Umph !"  ejaculated  Col.  Bruce. 

Sir  Johnson  frowned  as  he  received  the  letter.  For 
a  moment  he  held  it  in  his  hand  scrutinizing  it.  Ralph 
resented,  particularly,  the  doubtful  gaze  which  the  pig- 
eyed  colonel  turned  upon  him. 

It  was  an  awkward  minute.  Perhaps  nothing  could 
have  added  more  to  Ralph's  discomfiture  than  the  in- 
trusion that  then  occurred. 

A  big  window  filled  a  large  part  of  the  further  end  of 
the  room.  At  one  side  of  it  opposite  Ralph  was  a  low 
door,  which  suddenly  opened  and  a  tall  man  in  Indian 
costume  entered. 

Ralph  instantly  recognized  his  companion  of  the 
sloop.  His  wild  attire  added  to  his  mien  a  fierceness 
of  aspect  which  for  a  moment  greatly  startled  Ralph. 
He  wore  moccasins  elegantly  trimmed  with  beads,  leg- 


Id6  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  am  told  you  bring  a  letter  from  my  friend,  Mr. 
Hicks?"  he  said. 

"Then  I  have  the  honor  of  speaking  to  Sir  John 
Johnson?"  asked  Ralph. 

"I  would  return  the  compliment,  sir,"  said  Sir  John- 
son quietly,  "had  not  certain  extraordinary  circum- 
stances, which  I  trust  you'll  overlook,  deprived  me  of 
the  usual  formality  of  your  name?" 

Ralph  announced  himself. 

"Pray  be  seated,  Mr.  Tennant.  Allow  me  to  intro- 
duce my  two  friends — Col.  Claus,  Dr.  Bruce.  I  hope 
you'll  join  us.  There's  a  glass.  Bruce  please  pass  the 
bottle." 

The  two  gentlemen  returned  Ralph's  salutation; 
then,  without  another  word,  the  glasses  of  all  were 
filled.  There  was  an  air  of  precision  in  the  reception. 
Ralph  perceived  that  Sir  Johnson  and  his  friends  alike 
were  in  stifled  excitement. 

"Coming  from  so  staunch  a  Tory  as  my  friend  Mr. 
Hicks,  I  suppose  I  needn't  hesitate  to  ask  you  to  join 
us  in  a  toast  to  the  King?"  said  Sir  Johnson. 

As  he  spoke  Johnson  elevated  his  heavy  eyebrows. 

"I'll  gladly  join  you,"  answered  Ralph  promptly. 

Johnson's  face  relaxed.  His  example  in  rising  to 
the  toast  was  followed  by  his  guests. 

"Now,  Mr.  Tennant,"  said  Johnson,  in  a  prompt 
tone,  as  the  party  reseated  themselves,  "our  time  here 
is  very  short.  I  must  press  you  for  your  business,  even 
at  the  expense  of  hospitality.  The  truth  is  we  have 
received  word  that  Col.  Dayton  and  a  large  force  is  on 


THE  DELIVERY  OF  THE  LETTER          IO/ 

the  way  to  Johnson  Hall  to  commit  a  most  treasonable 
outrage.  Gen.  Schuyler  has  ordered  my  arrest.  As 
two  hundred  men  are  no  match  for  a  thousand  we  are 
compelled  for  the  time  being  to  flee  before  the  storm. 
If  you  had  delayed  your  visit  by  a  few  minutes  Mr. 
Hicks's  letter  would  not  have  reached  me." 

"In  delivering  this,"  said  Ralph,  as  he  handed  the 
letter  to  Johnson,  "I  hoped  to  have  full  time  to  explain 
the  peculiar  circumstances  under  which,  as  you  see,  it 
was  opened.  Perhaps  it  will  suffice  now  if  I  assure  you 
the  outrage  was  committed  by  another,  and  that  nev- 
ertheless its  contents  remain  inviolate." 

A  noticeable  air  of  suppression  fell  upon  the  party 
when  Ralph  said  this. 

"Umph !"  ejaculated  Col.  Bruce. 

Sir  Johnson  frowned  as  he  received  the  letter.  For 
a  moment  he  held  it  in  his  hand  scrutinizing  it.  Ralph 
resented,  particularly,  the  doubtful  gaze  which  the  pig- 
eyed  colonel  turned  upon  him. 

It  was  an  awkward  minute.  Perhaps  nothing  could 
have  added  more  to  Ralph's  discomfiture  than  the  in- 
trusion that  then  occurred. 

A  big  window  filled  a  large  part  of  the  further  end  of 
the  room.  At  one  side  of  it  opposite  Ralph  was  a  low 
door,  which  suddenly  opened  and  a  tall  man  in  Indian 
costume  entered. 

Ralph  instantly  recognized  his  companion  of  the 
sloop.  His  wild  attire  added  to  his  mien  a  fierceness 
of  aspect  which  for  a  moment  greatly  startled  Ralph. 
He  wore  moccasins  elegantly  trimmed  with  beads,  leg- 


IIO  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Ralph  was  dumfounded.  Brant's  tale  on  the  sloop 
flashed  upon  his  mind. 

"You  must  see,  Sir  Johnson,"  he  said,  "I  am  hope- 
lessly in  the  dark  as  to  what  you  mean.  I  can  do  noth- 
ing but  ask  you  to  enlighten  me." 

The  candor  of  Ralph's  appeal  evidently  impressed 
the  baronet.  Johnson  looked  at  Ralph  steadily  for  a 
moment,  and  finally  said: 

"There's  nothing  in  that  letter  which  need  necessar- 
ily be  private  from  you;  read  it." 

The  waters  seemed  to  flow  over  Ralph  as  line  by  line 
the  treachery  of  Hicks  was  disclosed  to  him. 

"Infernal  villain!"  he  exclaimed,  crumpling  the  let- 
ter in  his  hand. 

"Please  don't  destroy  my  letter,"  said  Johnson,  "and, 
Mr.  Tennant,  please,  now  let  us  get  down  to  business." 

"You  don't  believe  what  that,  that Sir  Johnson, 

I  have  no  words  for  this.  You  cannot  believe  it !" 

"You  see,  sir,  as  I  explained  a  moment  ago,  unfor- 
tunately I  don't  know  you  and  I  do  know  Mr.  Hicks. 
He  is  a  crown  official  and  one  of  my  oldest  friends. 
Your  credentials  are  against  you,  you  must  admit.  This 
occurs  at  a  most  awkward  moment  for  all  of  us.  I  am 
compelled  to  leave  my  home " 

He  paused,  and  turning  to  Claus,  said : 

"I  don't  know  what  to  do  except  make  Mr.  Tennant 
accompany  us." 

"Make,"  cried  Ralph. 

"Request,  if  you  like  it  better." 

"By  what  right,  sir?" 


THE  DELIVERY  OF  THE  LETTER  III 

"Force  majeur,  my  friend,"  said  Johnson,  incisively. 
"I  have  to  bow  to  it  myself,"  he  added,  smiling,  "and 
I  hope  what  my  dignity  submits  to  yours  will  accept." 

"Then  you  mean  to  use  force?"  asked  Ralph. 

"Mr.  Tennant,  you  must  see  that  if  any  one  is  to 
blame  for  your  predicament  it  is  not  I.  But  in  this  mat- 
ter I  intend  to  obey  what  is  practically  an  order  from 
the  crown.  I  prefer  to  be  pleasant.  If  you  will  permit 
me  we  will  not  speak  of  force.  I  shall  be  glad  to  have 
you  as  a  guest  with  us  on  our  expedition  which  starts 
immediately.  Do  you  accept?" 

Ralph  hesitated. 

"My  courtesy  cannot  wait,"  urged  Johnson. 

"Miss  Scott  is "  commenced  Ralph. 

"I  will  see  to  that.  The  young  lady  shall  be  con- 
ducted safely  to  where  she  is  staying." 

"But  all  this  is  an  outrageous  proceeding,"  cried 
Ralph. 

"Mr.  Tennant,  there  are  one  hundred  men  outside 
there,  moving  at  my  orders,  and  they  will  not  consider 
any  of  my  commands  outrageous.  Do  you  understand?" 

"I  suppose,"  said  Ralph  hopelessly,  "I  am  in  your 
power.  I  can't  see  now  what  to  do  but  submit  and  bide 
my  time  for  satisfaction." 

"Good !"  exclaimed  Johnson.  "Brant,  Mr.  Tennant 
will  take  a  place  in  our  company. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  FLIGHT. 

AT  the  rear  of  the  Hall  around  the  stables  and  barns 
was  assembled  a  loosely  dispersed  company  of  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  men.  Perhaps  one  hundred  were 
provided  with  some  form  of  baggage.  The  others  were 
not  of  the  expedition.  Evidently  the  strain  of  prepara- 
tion was  over  and  silence  prevailed.  When  the  master 
and  his  company  stepped  out  of  the  rear  door  burdens 
were  instinctively  grasped,  good-byes  were  said  hastily 
for  the  last  time  and  without  a  word  of  command  audi- 
ble to  Ralph  the  little  troop  set  forth.  No  regular  for- 
mation was  adopted.  The  men  moved  in  twos  and 
threes  as  accident  ordered. 

The  first  part  of  the  march  passed  over  the  Johnson 
estate,  through  field  and  ploughed  land,  afterward 
through  partly  cleared  woods  beyond  which  ran  a  forest 
road. 

This  pathway  was  almost  unknown.  It  had  indeed  a 
traditional  existence  among  the  inhabitants  of  Johns- 
town, but  scarcely  more.  It  had  been  constructed  a 
long  time  ago,  according  to  the  pioneer's  time-piece, 
for  military  reasons  and  at  the  expense  of  Sir  William 
Johnson,  the  present  baronet's  father,  at  a  period  when 
the  Mohawk's  faith  in  the  English  agent  was  raw  and 
untested.  The  purpose  of  the  road  was  attack.  With 
the  prolongation  of  peace  it  fell  into  neglect.  The  sum- 


THE  FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  FLIGHT  11$ 

mer  hid  it  with  tangled  vegetation,  the  winter  buried  it 
with  timber  and  leaves.  Yet  there  is  a  magic  in  man's 
ringers  which  creates  a  certain  tenacious  residuum  in 
his  handicraft  exceeding  hard  to  quite  obliterate.  Hunt- 
ers and  woodsmen  occasionally  came  upon  the  aban- 
doned road  like  a  forgotten  thing,  but  they  soon  wan- 
dered from  it  and  lost  the  exact  bearings  of  their  dis- 
covery. In  the  early  summer  this  path  afforded  a  tol- 
erably passable  trail  to  the  north.  It  was  completely 
overarched  with  foilage  and  might  be  likened  to  a  nar- 
row tree-flanked  aisle  winding  with  an  apparently  in- 
terminable indefiniteness  of  aim  up  and  down  hill-sides, 
skirting  brooks  and  mountain  streams,  dodging  as  it 
proceeds  all  the  harder  obstacles  of  the  route. 

To  Ralph,  a  stranger  to  the  untrod  wilderness,  there 
was  something  occult  in  the  instinct  that  seemed  to 
guide  Johnson's  marching  column.  As  soon  as  the 
forest  was  entered  the  company  fell  into  a  long  file. 
Johnson  with  his  companions  and  Ralph  brought  up 
the  rear.  For  hours  scarcely  a  word  was  spoken.  The 
spirit  or  retreat  chilled  every  one.  The  hard,  set  pur- 
pose of  the  flight,  the  weary  anticipation  of  distance  and 
difficulties  ahead  silenced  the  party. 

On  the  march  Ralph's  indignation  over  his  own  ab- 
duction slowly  parted  with  its  fervor.  The  novelty  of 
the  situation,  his  unprepared  share  in  it,  his  ignorance 
of  the  exact  meaning  of  the  circumstances  with  which 
he  was  strangely  keeping  company,  in  the  end  intense- 
ly interested  him.  The  only  obligation  upset  by  his  ab- 
sence was  his  duty  to  Miss  Scott.  That  she  was  per- 


114  THE    HEART    OF    WOMAN 

fectly  safe  he  was  sure,  and  he  half  suspected  some  ex- 
planation to  quiet  any  anxiety  for  his  absence  would  be 
given  to  her  by  the  remaining  members  of  the  Johnson 
household.  His  attention  slowly  deviated  from  himself 
to  a  sense  of  the  forest  itself.  He  began  to  feel  some- 
thing of  its  remoteness,  vastness,  silence  and  inhospi- 
tality.  Thence  he  turned  to  his  mute  trudging  com- 
panions whose  passage  into  the  wilderness  now  wore 
the  air  of  an  impertinent  intrusion.  Partly  fascinated, 
he  fell  into  step  with  the  party.  He  found  himself 
watching  with  interest  the  long,  vacillating  line  of  hu- 
manity ahead  of  him  that  crunched  a  way  over  rotting 
timber,  fallen  branches  and  obstinate  low  underbrush, 
while  the  afternoon  sun  transfused  the  forest  with  a 
lucent  atmosphere  of  emerald.  Here  and  there  bright 
light  struck  in,  but  for  the  most  part  the  woods  were 
shadowless  as  the  bottom  of  a  green  ethereal  sea. 

The  flight  was  maintained  with  the  utmost  expedi- 
tion. The  tramp  continued  unslackened  throughout 
the  afternoon.  The  melancholy  lights  of  the  evening 
faded.  One  by  one  the  woodland  sounds  of  the  day 
were  stilled,  and  as  the  night  stole  in  they  were  suc- 
ceeded by  the  weird  nocturnal  cries  of  marauding  ani- 
mals. About  nine  o'clock  the  moon,  then  near  full,  be- 
gan shining  brightly  through  the  heavy  lattice-work  of 
foliage,  and  as  the  dark  outlines  of  the  trees  stood  forth 
in  the  silver  light  they  pictured  themselves  to  Ralph  as 
stationary  files  of  black  phantoms  watching  the  strange 
flight  through  their  remote  domain. 

During  all  these  hours  Ralph  trudged  in  file  between 


THE  FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  FLIGHT  1 1  5 

Sir  Johnson  and  Col.  Claus.  The  former  stalked  along 
in  as  deep  contemplation  as  Ralph.  Claus  occasionally 
broke  silence  by  an  oath  when  his  foot  struck  some  stub 
or  he  stumbled. 

"You  can't  swear  a  way  through  these  damned 
woods.  Lift  your  feet !"  cried  Dr.  Bruce.  The  tone  of 
his  vorce  indicated  that  he,  too,  was  relieving  his  feel- 
ings. 

"I'm  not  a  giraffe  like  you  and  Johnson,"  cried  Claus 

Ralph  was  pleased  to  hear  the  Colonel  puff  over  his 
labor. 

Brant  was  marching  further  to  the  rear,  with  Col. 
Butler  and  Sam  Burton,  an  Englishman  and  head  over- 
seer of  Johnson's  estate. 

Only  once  Johnson  dropped  back  abreast  with 
Ralph.  The  movement  was  undeliberate.  Observing 
his  position  Sir  Johnson  glanced  hastily  at  his  captive 
and  ejaculated  in  a  sad  and  uneasy  tone : 

"After  all  we  move  slowly." 

"Neither  pace  nor  spirit  is  lively,"  said  Ralph,  ma- 
liciously. "The  tail  of  the  party  seems  to  have  been 
scotched  after  all." 

Johnson  frowned.  His  mood  was  too  heavy  for  an- 
ger. He  stepped  ahead  to  his  previous  position,  leav- 
ing something  of  pity  behind  with  Ralph. 

Near  midnight  a  cry  to  halt  echoed  along  the  mov- 
ing line.  A  stop  had  been  ordered  on  the  side  of  a 
wide,  shallow  stream.  Ralph  followed  Johnson  to  a 
spot  where  the  forest  verged  on  a  high  natural  embank- 
ment. But  a  step  beyond  was  fairyland  created  by  the 


Il6  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

magic  of  the  moon.  Twenty  feet  below  the  water 
sparkled  gloriously  as  it  rippled  over  its  stony  bed  and 
wound  out  of  sight  in  both  directions  amid  low  pine- 
clad  hills.  The  men  commenced  wading  across  the 
stream.  Voices  were  raised.  In  a  moment  the  tension 
of  the  fugitives  was  relieved  and  the  air  was  filled  with 
sound. 

"This  won't  do!"  cried  Johnson  angrily,  turning  to 
Brant.  "Don't  the  fools  know  anything?" 

"Silence!"  shouted  Brant. 

His  voice  reverberated  in  the  hills.  The  echoes  died 
in  silence  that  seemed  limitless. 

"How  far  have  we  gone?"  asked  Johnson. 

"About  eighteen  miles,"  Brant  replied. 

"Enough?    Dare  we  rest?" 

"No.  Nothing  is  safe  until  we  are  on  the  further  side 
of  Beaver  Lake." 

Johnson  relied  implicity  on  the  Indian's  judgment. 
After  a  few  minutes  the  entire  party  crossed  the  stream 
and  resumed  the  march. 

Ralph  found  him  unexpectedly  by  the  side  of  Brant. 
The  Indian's  barbaric  attire  and  furtive  stride  amid  the 
night  shadows  of  the  wilderness  gave  the  young  man, 
despite  himself,  a  disagreeable  chill.  He  regarded 
askance  the  bent  projection  of  the  body,  the  rolling 
glide  of  his  companion  and  began  wondering  whether 
those  forest-taught  motions  were  also  accompanied  by 
the  stealthy  mind  of  the  savage.  Suspicions  protruded 
themselves  out  of  every  corner  of  their  strange  encoun- 
ter until  at  last  Ralph  was  speculating  how  far  old  Isaac 


THE  FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  FLIGHT 

Scott  was  right  when  he  said  that  Brant  was  actor  in  a 
conspiracy.  He  ended  by  feeling  that  somehow  he  was 
that  man's  prisoner.  The  thought  irritated  him. 

After  a  while  Brant  said  in  a  whisper,  intended  to  be 
solicitous : 

"This  must  be  an  unexpected  tramp  for  you?" 

"It  oughtn't  to  be  after  that  meeting  with  you." 

Ralph  intended  to  probe  rather  than  insult,  but  the 
sting  of  the  words  once  uttered  strangely  roused  in 
himself  a  latent  resentment. 

"Unfair  again!"  said  the  Indian  softly.  "When  we 
won't  learn  we  blame  others." 

"Civilized  maxim:  Indian  practices,  eh?"  said  Ralph 
perilously  close  to  a  sneer. 

The  Indian  seized  Ralph's  arm  with  a  grip  that 
pained. 

Without  a  word  Ralph  turned  and  struck  his  com- 
panion a  blow  in  the  chest  that  set  him  coughing  vio- 
lently. Neither  paused  in  the  march.  Those  following 
some  paces  behind  did  not  see  the  incident  perhaps  be- 
cause of  the  darkness  of  the  woods. 

Expecting  some  reply  to  the  attack  Ralph  stepped 
aside  and  put  himself  on  guard. 

"You  fool!"  hissed  Brant.  "I  should  have  replied 
quicker  than  your  thought  if  reply  had  been  in  me. 
Heavens,  why  don't  I?" 

"Why  don't  you?    I'm  weaponless,"  sneered  Ralph. 

"I'm  the  fool,  Mr.  Tennant.  That's  why.  In  my 
own  way  I  have  been  stupidly  pleading  for  friendship. 
Something  appealed  to  me.  I  don't  know  what  it  was 


Il8  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

now.  I  was  asked  by  Whitehead  Hicks  to  see  you 
secured  up  here.  Instead,  I  warned  you  of  your  dan- 
ger. I  followed  you  to  that  Scott  house  and  wherever 
you  went  afterward.  I  can  tell  you  every  step  you  have 
taken.  I  hoped  to  prevent  your  going  to  Johnstown. 
I  missed  you  finally  only  because  of  Sir  Johnson's 
urgent  call.  I  even  sent  some  one  to  warn  you  again 
at  Gist's  farm-house.  When  I  learned  you  had  slipped 
away  with  Miss  Scott  to  the  Hall,  I  hurried  in,  as  you 
saw,  to  aid  you.  I  couldn't  prevent  them  bringing  you 
along.  Before  I  left  I  sent  word  to  Miss  Scott  that  you 
were  safe  and  would  be  back  soon.  Only  your  per- 
sistent folly  has  tripped  me.  And  now — you " 

Brant  paused.  Presently  he  drew  himself  up  and 
said: 

"Mr.  Tennant,  among  my  people  I  am  nobly  born." 

"I  am  ashamed  of  myself,"  said  Ralph,  humiliated 
deeply  by  this  confession.  "It  is  belittling  the  offense 
to  ask  your  pardon.  The  only  excuse  I  can  find  is  you 
did  not  explain  yourself.  Since  Johnson  showed  me 
Hicks's  villainous  letter  I  have  associated  you  some- 
how with  the  treachery." 

"I  am  sorry  for  you,"  said  Brant.  "I  thought  my 
hints  would  be  sufficient.  Besides — can  you  under- 
stand?— I  shrank  from  entirely  betraying  Hicks." 

"Well,  well,"  said  Ralph.  "I  am  a  fool.  I  had  no 
idea  of  the  debt  I  owe  you." 

"Never  mind,  it  is  just  as  well  to  continue  to  over- 
look it." 

With  this  the  Indian  hurried  forward.     Ralph  did 


THE  FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  FLIGHT  IIQ 

not  see  him  again  until  after  sunrise,  when  the  weary 
band  encamped  on  the  shores  of  Beaver  Lake. 

Beaver  Lake  as  Ralph  viewed  it  in  the  clear,  still 
morning  air  did  not  appear  to  measure  more  than  a 
mile  by  perhaps  half  that  distance  in  width.  The 
water  was  extremely  deep  and  blue  and  it  reflected 
with  a  serene  fidelity  the  surrounding  forest  and  the 
high,  tree-clad  hills.  The  sun  was  not  quite  risen. 
The  day  breezes  were  not  stirring  and  little  dissolving 
cloudlets  of  thin  mist  floated  over  the  surface  like  bits 
of  white  veiling.  The  timber  crept  down  almost  to  the 
last  foot  of  the  shore,  which  was  lumbered  with 
blanched  trunks  of  fallen  cedars  whitened  by  the  action 
of  water  and  sunshine. 

Johnson  decided  to  push  around  to  the  opposite  side 
of  the  lake  and  encamp  there.  A  suitable  spot  was 
soon  found.  Baggage  was  dropped  and  in  a  few 
minutes  several  fires  were  crackling  and  the  incense 
perhaps  of  the  first  white  man's  breakfast  in  the  locality 
rose  to  heaven.  The  party  were  scantily  provided  with 
food,  the  staple  articles  carried  being  dried  beef  and 
corn  meal.  But  there  was  plenty  of  fish  in  the  lake  and 
Burton  and  Brant  were  not  long  in  providing  a  toler- 
able repast  for  Johnson  and  his  friends.  The  meal  was 
spread  under  a  group  of  pines  near  an  opening  in  the 
woods  that  permitted  a  full  view  of  the  lake. 

"You'll  join  us,  Mr.  Tennant?"  said  Johnson,  cour- 
teously. 

"You're  kind,"  replied  Ralph,  "but  oughtn't  the 
prisoner  to  get  prison  fare?" 


I2O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"He  may  deserve  it,"  said  Johnson,  laughing,  "but 
I  could  not  condemn  him  to  anything  that  will  lie 
heavier  on  his  stomach  than  this.  Eh,  Claus?  How's 
your  appetite?" 

It  was  plain  the  gentleman  in  Johnson  would  not  be 
denied  in  the  host.  His  pleasantry  was  an  attempt  to 
put  the  company  in  good  humor. 

"Don't  talk  of  appetite,"  growled  the  Colonel.  "I 
lost  my  belly  somewhere  in  those  dammed  woods.  The 
rebels  could  have  me,  I  tell  you,  if  I  had  to  begin  this 
over  again." 

"There's  loyalty  for  you,  Mr.  Tennant !"  cried  John- 
son. 

"Mine's  short  in  the  legs,  that's  all,"  said  the  Colonel, 
stretching  himself  with  difficulty  on  the  ground  beside 
the  meal. 

"It's  too  lonely  a  virtue  in  these  woods  to  please 
me,"  said  Bruce.  "It  seems  just  at  present  it's  receiv- 
ing the  usual  rewards  of  vice.  Doesn't  it  strike  you 
that  way?" 

"Treason,  gentlemen !"  cried  Johnson,  jocularly. 
"What  an  example  for  our  young  Whig  friend  here! 
He  may  think  he  has  fallen  into  good  company." 

"You  put  me  in  the  wrong  class,"  protested  Ralph. 

"The  wrong — devil !"  cried  Claus. 

Johnson  regarded  Ralph  dubiously. 

"I  mean  it,"  reasserted  Ralph;  "I  wouldn't  shun  the 
name,  even  here,  if  I  loved  it." 

"Hicks  didn't  give  you  much  of  a  character  as  a 
Tory,"  ejaculated  Claus. 


THE  FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  FLIGHT  121 

"My  character,  one  way  or  the  other,  wasn't  in  Mr. 
Hicks's  hands,"  cried  Ralph. 

"But  your  letter — "  began  Bruce. 

"We  had  better  not  open  that  letter  again,"  inter- 
rupted Johnson. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Ralph.  "That  is  really  the  best 
way  to  .deal  with  a  very  gross  injustice." 

"Egad!"  spluttered  the  Colonel,  who  evidently  ob- 
jected to  an  evaporation  of  the  subject.  "That's  your 
way,  always,  Johnson.  I  can  see  you  have  quite  won 
over  the  enemy,  dazzled  him  by  a  dull  neutral  tint. 
Hasn't  he?" 

To  this  appeal  Ralph  replied : 

"Truth  is  often  a  matter  of  silence." 

"Bravo !"  cried  Johnson. 

"They  make  a  good  pair,  Bruce,  don't  they?" 
grumbled  the  Colonel,  whose  bad  temper,  after  all,  was 
more  noisy  than  real.  The  little  man  was  puffed  with 
a  petty  vanity  that  always  reacted  against  strangers 
until  it  had  been  placated,  and  Ralph  was  experiencing 
the  sour  side  of  it. 

Johnson's  determined  suavity  and  the  satisfaction  of 
the  meal  were,  however,  a  powerful  embassy  for  peace. 
Bruce,  whose  nature  was  neutral  and  indolent,  sided  by 
mere  passiveness  with  Johnson,  so  that  in  a  short  time 
the  Colonel  was  forced  to  either  stand  out  as  an  excep- 
tion or  join  the  general  amity.  The  conversation  by 
devious  turns  migrated  to  London  and  the  question  of 
the  steps  the  government  would  take  to  suppress  the 
rebellion.  Finding  Ralph  was  acquainted  with  the 


122  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

capital,  the  Colonel  capitulated  by  asking  whether  Mr. 
Tennant  had  happened  to  meet  the  Earl  of  Chichester. 
Ralph  replied  he  had  not — an  admission  which  imme- 
diately called  forth  an  account  of  a  visit  Claus  had  made 
to  London  many  years  ago,  of  the  fine  rooms  he  had 
lodged  in  near  Bloomsbury  Square,  how  he  had  met 
the  noble  earl  at  a  reception  given  by  the  celebrated 
Lady  Beaumarch,  and  how  he  had  scored  a  great  suc- 
cess with  the  august  company  gathered  there  by  an  ac- 
count of  the  history  and  manners  of  the  Mohawks.  It 
soon  became  apparent  that  the  Colonel  possessed  a 
fixed  repertoire  of  events.  He  had  not  the  slightest 
sense  of  repetition.  Whenever  a  cue  was  given  it 
called  forth  a  specific  story.  His  experiences,  too, 
seem  to  have  been  suddenly  arrested  somewhere  in  the 
past  at  a  time  when  he  was  rich,  great,  funny  and 
clever.  In  his  egotistical  middle  age  these  ancient  vir- 
tues and  splendors  had  been  extinguished,  and  he 
struggled,  as  with  Ralph,  to  shine  by  the  reflected  light 
of  tediously  renewed  reminiscences.  His  foible  was  a 
standing  butt  for  the  satire  of  his  friends. 

"Claus  ought  to  warn  you  in  case  you  ever  are 
tempted  to  repeat  that  story  that  Chichester  died  when, 
no  doubt,  you  were  in  the  cradle,"  said  Johnson,  laugh- 
ing. 

"Don't  be  envious,  Johnson,  because  Claus's  mem- 
ory is  both  youthful  and  aristocratic,"  cried  Dr.  Bruce. 

"I'll  swear  I'm  younger  than  either  of  you,"  cried 
the  Colonel,  who  hated  any  reference  to  his  age,  "and 
as  to " 


THE  FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  FLIGHT  12$ 

A  voice  suddenly  sounded  across  the  lake. 

"Hallo!    Hallo!" 

The  echoes  reverberated  through  the  forest. 

Instantly  all  except  Brant  jumped  to  their  feet. 

"Down!"  hissed  Brant.  "Down!  Crawl  behind 
here !" 

All  dropped  to  the  ground,  and  from  behind  some 
undergrowth  listened. 

"Hallo!  Hallo!" 

"Who  can  it  be?"  whispered  Johnson. 

"We  are  followed,"  said  Brant.  "Not  a  sound.  Dr. 
Bruce,  will  you  go  around  those  trees  and  tell  the  men 
to  be  silent  and  ready?" 

The  cry  had  stilled  every  sound  in  the  encampment. 

"Damn  it!"  said  Johnson.  "We  will  fight  them 
here." 

"Egad,  I'm  ready!"  said  the  Colonel,  producing  a 
brace  of  pistols. 

"Be  still!"  whispered  Brant.     "Watch!" 

Ralph  had  an  excellent  view  of  the  opposite  shore 
through  the  foliage  of  a  high  bush. 

The  cry  was  repeated.  It  was  followed  by  the  sound 
of  snapping  timber.  Presently,  to  his  astonishment, 
Ralph  saw  Chris  Gist  emerge,  balancing  himself  on  the 
trunk  of  a  fallen  tree. 

"Great  heavens !"  exclaimed  Ralph. 

"Hist!"  commanded  Brant. 

"Why  not  call  to  him?"  asked  Ralph. 

"Don't  dare  to !"  Johnson  commanded. 

Ralph  turned  around  quickly. 


124  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  know  him;  he  is  a  friend  of  mine " 

"Hush!"  cried  Claus  angrily.  "There  is  some  one 
else  there.  If  you  open  your  mouth  again,  Tennant, 
I'll  put  a  bullet  in  you." 

"Indeed?"  said  Ralph  derisively.  "Can  you  shoot 
so  straight?" 

"Gentlemen,  silence,  I  command  you,"  said  John- 
son. 

Brant  put  his  hand  on  Ralph's  arm. 

"Be  still,"  he  pleaded. 

The  underbrush  on  the  opposite  shore  opened  again, 
and,  to  Ralph's  intense  surprise,  he  saw  Helen  step 
down  to  a  little  stretch  of  pebbly  beach. 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  Ralph  put  his  hands 
to  his  mouth  and  cried : 

"Hey!  Ho!  Helen!" 

Instantly  something  stung  his  ear,  accompanied  by 
a  deafening  report. 

The  Colonel  had  discharged  his  pistol  at  him  not  ten 
feet  away.  Quickly  as  this  murderous  act  had  been 
performed,  Brant  had  been  quicker.  With  a  blow  he 
had  diverted  the  Colonel's  aim  and  well  nigh  broken 
his  arm. 

Despite  the  pain  he  was  suffering  the  Colonel 
struggled  to  his  feet,  intending  to  use  the  second  wea- 
pon upon  the  Indian.  Brant  threw  him  to  the  ground. 
The  puffy  little  man  was  no  match  for  his  agile  antag- 
onist. His  arms  were  quickly  pinned  to  the  earth,  and 
then,  Brant,  springing  away  with  the  loaded  weapon, 
released  him.  The  entire  episode  occurred  in  so  little 


THE  FIRST  STAGE  OF  THE  FLIGHT  12$ 

time  that  Ralph  scarcely  had  realized  all  that  had  hap- 
pened when  he  found  Johnson  and  the  Doctor  at  his 
side,  stanching  the  blood  trickling  from  his  ear.  The 
Colonel,  too  angry  to  rise,  was  passionately  hurling 
oaths  at  Brant.  The  roar  of  profanity  must  have  been 
audible  across  the  lake. 

"This  is  a  nice  situation!"  cried  Johnson,  in  vexa- 
tion. 

"You  have  to  thank  that  traitor  for  it !"  yelled  Claus, 
shaking  his  fist  at  Ralph. 

"I  think,"  said  Brant,  addressing  Johnson,  "I  know 
who  hailed  us.  It  is  Chris  Gist." 

"Gist?  What  the  devil  can  he  be  doing  here?  And 
with  Miss  Scott!  It's  extraordinary!" 

Brant  smiled  and  winked  at  Ralph. 

"I  think  I  understand  that,  too,"  he  said. 

"The  deuce  you  do !"  exclaimed  the  Colonel. 

"I  will  hail  them,"  said  Brant.  "Good  or  bad,  we 
had  better  learn  what's  over  there." 

Johnson  assented.  Brant  went  down  to  the  water's 
edge. 

At  first  the  Indian  uttered  a  low,  guttural  cry  that 
was  immediately  answered  by  a  sound  similar  to  his 
own  as  an  echo.  Then  he  called : 

"Gist." 

In  replying,  the  tall  farmer  very  nearly  lost  his  bal- 
ance and  fell  into  the  water.  He  recognized  Brant, 
hailed  him  by  name  and  asked  if  Mr.  Tennant  was 
"over  there." 

"Who's  with  you?"  asked  Brant. 


126  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Only  Miss  Scott  and  Canas " 

"All  right,  all  right,"  sang  Brant,  interrupting  the 
reply.  Sir  Johnson,  I  had  better  get  over  there  and 
learn  what's  wanted." 

"Be  careful,  Brant.     Look  out  for  tricks." 

"I'm  sure  we  needn't  distrust;  still,  call  out  to  Gist 
you  are  sending  some  one  over  by  the  head  of  the 
lake.  I'll  work  my  way  around  the  other  way." 

Whispering  to  Ralph,  "Keep  your  temper,"  he  hur- 
ried off. 

"Mr.  Tennant,  I  sincerely  trust  you  are  not  responsi- 
ble for  this  intrusion,"  said  Johnson  seriously. 

"Rest  assured  I'm  not,"  said  Ralph,  "that  is,  in  any 
direct  way." 

"Direct  or  indirect,"  cried  Claus.  "What  does  it 
matter?  That  fellow  has  had  us  tracked!" 

"Silence!"  commanded  Johnson.  "Not  another 
word  between  you  gentlemen.  There's  no  danger 
from  that  wound,  Doctor,  is  there?" 

"It's  merely  a  scratch,"  said  Bruce.  "I  think  our 
friend  can  afford  to  lose  a  little  blood." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
HELEN  JOINS  THE  PARTT. 

BRANT  was  away  longer  than  was  expected.  Ralph 
and  his  companions  stood  in  silence  watching  the  ap- 
proaches to  the  camp.  Johnson,  by  posting  a  number 
of  his  men  armed  with  flintlocks  in  spots  that  com- 
manded the  openings,  showed  he  was  not  quite  assured 
his  enemies  were  not  upon  him.  Plainly  with  great 
relief  he  hailed  Brant  returning  with  Helen  and  Gist. 

"This  is  a  terrible  road  for  a  lady !"  Brant  cried  from 
a  distance. 

He  and  Gist  were  visibly  fatigued  by  their  efforts  to 
clear  a  path,  almost  step  by  step,  for  Helen. 

Ralph  and  Johnson  went  forward  to  meet  the  new- 
comers. 

"Miss  Scott,  what  does  this  mean?"  asked  Johnson, 
half  severely,  half  pleasantly. 

Helen  blushed  and  looked  toward  Ralph.  She  saw 
the  blood  on  Ralph's  face.  With  a  cry  of  alarm  she 
hastened  to  him. 

"What  has  happened,  Mr.  Tennant?"  she  asked. 

"Nothing  at  all,"  said  Ralph;  "a  mere  accident — the 
inability  of  some  one  to  handle  firearms  as  a  gentle- 
man." 

Helen  turned  to  Sir  Johnson  a  look  of  searching  in- 
quiry. 


128  THE  HEART  OF 

"He  is  perfectly  sound,"  said  Johnson,  smiling. 
"Don't  be  alarmed." 

"I  feared  something  dreadful  had  happened  when 
Mr.  Tennant  didn't  return  to  meet  me  at  the  Hall. 
Lady  Johnson  could  give  me  no  information." 

"You  thought  your  friend  had  been  murdered  or 
something  equally  terrible  had  befallen  him,  eh?"  asked 
the  baronet. 

"I  didn't  know  what  to  think,"  said  Helen,  candidly. 
"I  blamed  myself  for  having  influenced  him  to  deliver 
that  letter." 

"Oh,  ho,  Miss  Scott !  So  you,  too,  know  of  that  let- 
ter? But  do  sit  down;  I  am  sorry  I  have  no  better 
seat  for  you  than  these  pine  needles.  I'll  have  some- 
thing prepared  for  you  to  eat — I  daren't  say  cooked." 

They  made  Helen  as  comfortable  as  possible  with  the 
trunk  of  a  tree  as  a  rest  for  her  back.  Then  Johnson 
resumed : 

"So  you  know  of  that  letter?"  he  asked. 

"Certainly,"  she  replied,  looking  at  Ralph. 

"You  know  its  contents?"  asked  the  baronet  slyly. 

"Of  course  not,  Sir  Johnson." 

"Ah !  of  course  not;  excuse  me." 

"Then  why  did  you  ask  me?"  asked  Helen  promptly. 

Johnson  looked  at  his  inquisitor  good  naturedly  for 
a  moment,  then  continued  as  though  he  had  not  heard 
the  question. 

"So  you  decided  to  follow  Mr.  Tennant  when  you 
found  him  missing?" 

"I  decided  to  catch  up  with  him — with  you.     I  felt 


HELEN  JOINS  THE  PARTY  12g 

sure  there  had  been  some  mistake,  and  as  I  knew  you 
so  well,  Sir  John " 

Johnson  bowed. 

"You  thought  you  could  induce  me  to  liberate  my 
captive?"  he  asked. 

"Exactly  so,"  replied  Helen. 

"How  did  you  discover  the  road  we  had  taken?" 

For  a  moment  Helen  was  confused. 

"Lady  Johnson — said — told  me — you  were  all  going 
away  and — Mr.  Gist " 

"Mr.  Gist  discovered  the  path,  eh?  Is  that  so,  Mr. 
Gist?" 

"That's  about  right,"  said  the  farmer,  slowly. 

"I  am  sure  you  will  understand  why  I  am  inquisitive. 
Will  you  tell  me  how  you  knew  exactly  which  route  we 
had  taken?" 

"Well,"  drawled  Gist,  "when  we  hunt  a  deer  we 
know  pretty  well  the  path  it  will  take,  and  when  we  are 
looking  for  a  fox  we  govern  ourselves  likewise." 

Everybody  laughed  at  this,  including  Sir  Johnson. 

"Do  you  think  Dayton  knows  as  much  about — 
foxes?"  asked  Johnson. 

"I  think  he's  content  with  having  smoked  you  out." 

"Oh,  he  is,  is  he?     Thank  you." 

"That's  my  opinion,"  said  Gist.  "He's  got  the  Hall, 
and  I'm  inclined  to  think  he's  enjoying  himself  there." 

"Umph !"  ejaculated  the  baronet.  "Well,"  he  con- 
tinued sadly,  "it's  the  fortune  of  war !  However,  Miss 
Helen,  I  wish  you  could  assure  me  that  no  one  knows 
of  your  trip  or  the  road  you  took  except  yourselves." 

5 


I3O  THE    HEART    OF    WOMAtf 

"No,"  Gist  replied;  "no  one.  I  wouldn't  have 
brought  Helen  along,  in  spite  of  her  pleadings,  had  I 
known  you  were  'moving  so  fast.  We  calculated  we 
could  catch  you  before  nightfall.  You  see  I  helped 
your  father  build  that  road.  Though  it's  in  fair  condi- 
tion yet,  I  must  say  you  moved  pretty  lively.  More 
than  once  I  told  Helen  to  stop,  but  she  kept  saying 
another  mile  would  bring  us  up  to  you." 

"Miss  Scott,  how  am  I  to  thank  you?"  said  Ralph, 
deeply  stirred. 

"Walking  doesn't  tire  me  as  it  does  some  girls,"  said 
Helen. 

"Miss  Scott,"  said  Johnson  enthusiastically,  "had  I 
known  you  were  coming  in  this  way  damn  me  if  I 
wouldn't  have  received  you  with  military  honors." 

This  exclamation  thoroughly  disconcerted  Helen. 

"But  here,"  said  Sir  Johnson,  "you  must  eat  some- 
thing and  rest " 

"No,  no,"  interrupted  Helen.  "I  will  take  some- 
thing to  eat,  if  you  please,  and  I  am  sure  my  cousin 
will;  but  we  must  be  hurrying  home.  No  one  knows 
where  we  are.  Think  of  their  anxiety!  And,  Sir 
Johnson,  now  that  you  know — now  that  everything  is 
— all  right — of  course,  you  will  let  Mr.  Tennant  accom- 
pany us?" 

"Not  so  fast,  Miss  Scott.  You  must  remember  you 
are  using  the  terms  of  peace  at  a  time,  when,  unfor- 
tunately, we  are  in  a  state  of  war." 

"Peace  or  war,  I  don't  expect  to  find  you  commit- 
ting an  outrage." 


HELEN  JOINS  THE  PARTY  \^\ 

"Neither  am  I,"  replied  the  baronet,  positively.  "Mr. 
Tennant  is  detained  by  authority." 

"What  authority?"  asked  Helen. 

"The  highest— the  King's." 

"Is  that  so,  Ralph?" 

"Sir  Johnson  hardly  means  exactly  what  he  says," 
said  Ralph. 

"Don't  I?  Indeed!"  said  Johnson.  "I  assure  you 
I  do." 

"Mr.  Whitehead  Hicks  is  not  exactly  the  King," 
said  Ralph.  "But,  there,  I  have  no  intention  to  de- 
bate that  matter  again." 

"I  am  afraid  we  wouldn't  agree,"  said  Johnson. 

"•Then  am  I  to  understand  that  you  insist  upon  forc- 
ing Mr.  Tennant  to  accompany  you?"  demanded 
Helen. 

"My  dear  young  lady,  do  you  hold  a  brief  for  your 
friend?"  asked  Johnson. 

"The  matter  is  simply  this,"  said  Helen  boldly.  "Mr. 
Tenant  was  warned  by  many  not  to  deliver  that  letter 
to  you.  His  intention,  I  believe,  was  to  deliver  it  at 
all  hazards,  but,  perhaps,  if  I  had  not  assured  him  you 
were  an  honorable  man,  the  counsel  of  others  might 
have  prevailed." 

"For  his  sake  and  for  yours  I'm  sorry  they  didn't," 
said  Johnson,  "though  I  thank  you  for  expressing  a 
good  opinion  of  me." 

"Then  you  intend  to  persist  in  your  present  course?" 

"Most  decidedly,"  said  Johnson,  showing  a  trace  of 
anger. 


132  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"You  greatly  disappoint  me,"  said  the  girl,  flushing. 
"I'm  sure,  when  I  return  home,  some  steps  to  convince 
you  of  your  wrong-doing  will  be  taken  by  others  as 
surprised  at  your  conduct  as  I  am." 

"I  am  sorry  you  put  the  matter  in  that  way,"  said 
Johnson,  thoughtfully,  "for  you  have  crystallized  in  my 
mind  a  disagreeable  necessity  which  I  hoped  I 
could  see  some  way  of  disregarding.  Miss  Scott,  this 
is  a  very  serious  business  we  are  all  engaged  in.  The 
liberty  and  perhaps  the  lives  of  my  men  and  myself  are 
at  stake.  Only  for  desperate  reasons,  you  know,  do 
people  leave  their  homes,  and  desperate  reasons  often 
require  desperate  acts.  I  don't  see  how  I  can  allow 
you  or  Mr.  Gist  to  return  home.  Our  safety  demands 
it." 

This  announcement  stupefied  Helen. 

"You  can't  contemplate  such  an  outrage!"  cried 
Ralph. 

"I  contemplate  anything  necessary  to  the  success  of 
the  steps  I  have  been  forced  to  take,"  said  Johnson. 

"But  you  are  not  fighting  women !"  exclaimed 
Ralph.  To  drag  a  young  girl  through  the  hardships 
of Oh !  it's  monstrous !" 

"She  came  not  at  my  invitation,"  said  Johnson 
calmly. 

"And  she  won't  stay  at  it,  either,"  said  Gist  shaking 
his  head. 

"What  do  you  say,  Claus?"  asked  Johnson. 

"Say !"  exclaimed  the  Colonel.  "Why,  five  minutes 
after  they  are  back  in  Johnstown  our  route  will  be 


HELEN  JOINS  THE  PARTY  133 

known.  Perhaps,  on  the  way  home  they'll  meet  a 
party  sent  this  way — and  then?" 

The  Colonel  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  turned  his 
little  black  eyes  upward. 

"To  my  thinking  we  have  dangers  enough,"  said 
Bruce,  "without  adding  anything  to  them." 

"What  do  you  think,  Brant?"  asked  Johnson. 

"Perhaps,"  suggested  the  Indian,  "Miss  Scott  and 
Mr.  Gist  would  promise " 

"Sir  Johnson  in  an  outrage  of  this  sort,  I  will  prom- 
ise nothing,"  said  Helen  resolutely,  "neither  shall  my 
cousin." 

"That  decides  it,"  said  Johnson  shortly. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE  THEIR  LEAVE. 

DESPITE  Ralph's  vehement  protests  and  Gist's  angry 
defiance,  Johnson  held  to  his  determination. 

"It's  an  act  of  war,"  he  said.  "I  cannot  afford  to  run 
any  risk.  No  doubt  to-morrow  we  can  place  Miss 
Scott  near  to  some  habitation  whence  she  can  be  re- 
turned home  safely." 

From  Beaver  Lake  the  fugitive  expedition  proceed- 
ed still  almost  due  north.  A  few  miles  of  the  renewed 
and  painful  journey  were  through  the  unbroken  forest. 
It  was  toilsome  traveling.  Johnson  did  all  in  his  power 
to  make  the  way  easier  for  Helen.  She  was  placed  at 
the  end  of  the  column,  so  that  the  path  might  be  as 
much  beaten  as  possible,  and  Ralph,  Gist  and  Brant 
assisted  her  over  all  obstacles. 

Repeatedly  Ralph  declared  his  sorrow  at  having 
been  the  cause  of  bringing  her  into  so  hard  a  situation. 
The  girl  refused  to  hold  him  at  all  responsible.  Her 
chief  concern  was  for  Gist's  wife  and  for  her  own  fam- 
ily in  case  word  should  reach  them  of  her  disappear- 
ance. 

"Apart  from  that,"  she  declared,  "this  isn't  so  terri- 
ble, and  it  ought  to  satisfy  your  love  of  romance.  Or 
must  you  have  the  dragons  and  giants?" 

Ralph  was  glad  she  could  be  gay. 


SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE  THEIR  LEAVE  135 

As  Dr.  Bruce  said,  Helen  civilized  the  expedition. 
Not  only  Ralph  and  Gist  were  her  cavaliers,  but  after 
a  while  Johnson  and  his  friends  were  constantly  of  her 
bodyguard.  Her  position  might  easily  have  been  ex- 
tremely awkward.  Helen's  straightforward  nature  freed 
it  at  once  from  perplexity.  Her  wholesome  simplicity 
and  imperturbable  common-sense  banished  without  a 
word  every  fictitious  element  and  reduced  the  situation 
to  a  thorough  working  order.  On  the  march  Johnson 
endeavored  to  explain  to  her  fully  his  position. 

"I  quite  understand  your  position,"  she  said,  "I 
blame  you  only  because  you  don't  consider  mine." 

"Believe  me,  I  do,  but  I  am  powerless.  The  circum- 
stances are  against  you,  Miss  Scott." 

"No;  you  mean  you  want  them  all  on  your  side,  and 
unlike  the  gentleman  you  ought  to  be,  you  prefer  to 
consider  your  own  safety  at  the  expense  of " 

" keeping  you  a  day  in  our  company,"  interrupt- 
ed Johnson.  "You  have  given  us  that  honor  before 
when  there  was  nothing  at  stake.  If  I  may  not  claim 
it  now  on  behalf  of  myself  and  those  with  me,  let  me 
beg  it  on  account  of  my  wife.  The  failure  of  my  plans 
would  be  a  serious  matter  for  her." 

"No,  no,"  said  Helen.  "I  go  with  you  solely  because 
I  must.  If  I  had  my  way  I  would  return  immediately. 
You  mustn't  seek  pardon  for  a  tyranny,  Sir  Johnson, 
on  account  of  our  friendship." 

"Should  I  allow  you  to  return,  would  you ?"  be- 
gan Johnson. 

"You  mean  alone?"  asked  Helen. 


136  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Oh,  no!     With  Mr.  Gist,  of  course." 

"And"'— Helen  hesitated— "Mr.  Tennant?" 

"He  remains,"  said  Johnson  resolutely.  "In  that 
case  would  you  promise ?" 

"In  that  case,"  broke  in  Helen  impetuously,  "if  I 
could  find  a  dozen  men  in  Johnstown  who  can  feel  a 
wrong  I  would  see  that  you  did  not  escape  unpun- 
ished." 

"Then  it  is  war  between  us,  Miss  Scott?"  exclaimed 
Johnson  good  naturedly. 

"Yes,"  said  Helen  firmly. 

"Well,  I'm  sorry;  but  let  it  be  only  in  opinion  until 
we  part.  Belligerents  agree  to  truces." 

"This  is  a  poor  place  to  quarrel,"  said  Helen,  smil- 
ing despite  herself.  "You  have  the  advantage  now." 

"Damn  me,"  exclaimed  the  baronet,  "if  I  was  alone 
in  this,  Miss  Helen,  I  swear  it  should  not  rest  with  me !" 

Helen  blushed  and  turned  to  Gist  for  retreat. 

Sir  Johnson  undoubtedly  felt  acutely  his  position  re- 
garding Helen.  He  was  cast  in  a  gentle  mould,  and  in 
the  game  he  was  playing  he  was  working  against  the 
grain.  He  had  no  taste  for  rough  circumstances  and 
cared  little  for  the  driving  tyrannies  of  the  will.  But, 
like  all  men  forced  despite  themselves,  his  determina- 
tion was  hard  in  proportion  to  its  factitiousness.  He 
ceased  parleying  with  Helen  regarding  her  situation 
and  joined  her  like  the  rest  of  the  party  on  a  general 
footing. 

It  was  after  noon  when  the  camp  on  Beaver  Lake 
was  broken  up.    The  day  was  sultry  for  the  season  and 


SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE   THEIR  LEAVE  137 

the  renewed  march  through  the  woods  heavy  and  wear- 
isome. However,  every  hour  that  passed  without  chal- 
lenge insured  the  safety  of  the  expedition,  and,  with 
the  return  of  confidence,  the  haste  of  the  start  and  the 
heavy  sense  of  restriction  on  the  men  were  relaxed. 
Claus,  whose  middle-aged  gallantry  was  irrepressible 
by  any  circumstances,  paid  Helen  the  most  deferential 
attention.  As  he  aided  her  over  obstacles  he  recounted 
many  of  his  "episodes,"  while  Dr.  Bruce,  in  a  boyish 
spirit,  secretly  decorated  the  back  of  his  attire  with 
twigs  and  leaves,  many  of  which  Brant's  ingenuity  had 
contrived  into  strange  figures  and  devices. 

"Egad !  What  are  you  all  tittering  at?"  cried  the  Col- 
onel, interrupting  himself.  As  he  turned  around  Helen 
perceived  his  adornments  and  joined  heartily  in  the 
laughter. 

"Why,  Miss  Scott,  what  is  the  matter?" 

"Go  on,  Colonel;  go  on,"  cried  the  Doctor.  "You've 
told  that  story  so  often  it  is  getting  to  be  funny  again. 
Isn't  it  so,  Miss  Scott?" 

"It  is  all  new  to  me,"  said  Helen,  repressing  her 
laughter,  "and  very  interesting.  Please  don't  let  them 
interrupt  you,  Col.  Claus." 

"They  are  a  blackguard  lot,  Miss  Scott,"  said  the 
Colonel. 

"The  fun  is  all  in  front  of  us,"  continued  the  Doc- 
tor. "Why  should  not  we  laugh?" 

"Certainly,  we  have  left  mighty  little  behind  us,"  said 
Johnson,  with  a  trace  of  sadness. 

Near  sunset  the  party  passed  out  of  the  forest  into  a 


138  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

piece  of  broad,  sandy  country  skirted  by  noble  hills, 
behind  which  the  sun  was  setting.  The  distant  sky  was 
brilliantly  colored.  The  nearer  landscape,  dimmed  in 
the  twilight,  was  filled  with  patches  of  purplish  shadow. 
Here  traveling  was  comparatively  easy.  As  the  men 
trudged  along  some  one  started  a  familiar  hymn,  which 
was  quickly  taken  up  by  the  long  line  of  fugitives.  It 
added  a  touch  of  human  solemnity  to  the  melancholy 
evening  stillness  in  that  untrodden  solitude. 

Ralph  drew  nearer  to  Helen. 

"At  nightfall,"  he  said,  "the  earth  seems  to  call  all 
its  troubles  home,  as  it  does  the  birds." 

"Does  it  seem  so?"  she  asked.  "Are  there  any  trou- 
bles not  made  by  man  himself?" 

Proceeding  a  few  miles  further,  the  expedition  en- 
tered the  hill  country.  Here  a  rough  road,  scarcely 
more  than  the  furrows  of  infrequent  cartwheels,  indi- 
cated that  Johnson  and  his  men  were  come  within  the 
radius  of  civilization.  Remote  as  the  signs  were,  they 
had  a  delightfully  homely  significance  for  the  wander- 
ers, and,  despite  some  fear,  it  was  finally  decided  to  fol- 
low the  road  which  ran  in  the  general  direction  of 
Johnson's  route.  It  wound  about  in  a  ravine  at  the 
base  of  two  steep  hills  covered  to  the  tops  with  forest. 
Darkness  had  settled  in  the  hollow.  What  light  there 
was  shone  above  in  the  twilighted  heavens.  Even  this 
faint  reflection  had  well-nigh  faded  entirely  before  the 
party  reached  a  point  where  the  road  suddenly  dipped 
and  the  ravine  opened  upon  a  wide  amphitheatre  of 
hills.  Below,  the  flat'ands  were  crossed  by  a  stream. 


SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE  THEIR  LEAVE  139 

The  still  evening  air  was  filled  with  the  limpid  sound  of 
falling  water  and  with  the  warm  balsamic  odors  of 
pines.  The  column  halted  as  by  common  consent. 

"By  heavens,  isn't  that  lovely!"  cried  the  Doctor, 
surveying  the  scene.  "Nature  and  peace  wedded." 

"Oh,  be  d d,"  ejaculated  the  Colonel  derisively. 

"But,  what's  that?  A  light?" 

"It  is,"  cried  Johnson.    "Hold  on.    It  moves !" 

In  her  excitement  Helen  seized  Ralph's  hand. 

"There's  a  house  there,"  cried  Brant.  "The  light  is 
within  doors." 

Every  eye  was  strained  watching  the  solitary  beacon 
belo\v  in  the  hollow.  It  had  become  stationary  and 
only  a  faint  illumination  penetrated  to  the  world  with- 
out. 

"This  is  unexpected,"  said  Johnson.  "Who  can  live 
in  a  spot  like  this?" 

"Some  trapper,"    replied  Brant. 

"Egad,  we  were  nearly  trapped !"  exclaimed  the  Col- 
onel, with  whom  fear  was  always  an  exaggeration. 

"Bah !"  said  Bruce.  "Do  you  think  he  could  take 
us  all  in?  We're  a  valiant  lot !" 

"It  is  not  that  Bruce,"  interposed  Johnson.  "Our 
danger  is  always  in  the  rear.  We  want  to  take  our  trail 
with  us,  if  we  can." 

"You  can't  put  it  in  your  pocket  here,"  continued 
the  Doctor.  "We've  struck  the  straight  and  narrow 
path  with  a  vengeance.  Forward  or  backward  we  must 
stick  to  it  or  quit  it." 

"For  God's  sake,  do  not  talk  of  going  back !"  cried 


I4O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

the  Colonel.  "I'm  sinking  into  my  boots  already.  Be- 
sides, think  of  Miss  Scott  here." 

The  Colonel  certainly  was  thinking  little  of  the  girl. 
But  the  courage  of  every  one  was  footsore.  Satisfaction 
was  general  when  Johnson,  half  against  his  judgment, 
decided  to  proceed  to  the  habitation. 

"We  may  find  a  home  for  you  to-night,  Miss  Scott," 
said  Johnson,  cheerily,  as  the  descent  was  undertaken. 

"I  shan't  be  sorry,  but  don't  go  into  danger  on  my 
account,"  said  Helen. 

"Well,  I  must  say  you  are  a  whole-souled  enemy," 
said  Johnson  pleasantly. 

"Oh,  I'm  not  vindictive !"  cried  Helen. 

"I  see  you  are  not.  I  shall^  follow  so  good  an  exam- 
ple to  the  end,"  said  Johnson,  "and  you  shall  have  a 
bed  to-night  if  we  have  to  force  it." 

The  privates  of  the  company  were  left  stationed  on 
the  hillside.  As  the  principals  approached  the  house 
they  were  greeted  by  the  sonorous  bay  of  a  hound,  fol- 
lowed by  the  sharp  barking  of  a  number  of  dogs.  The 
habitation  was  a  low  building  standing  almost  on  the 
edge  of  the  stream.  In  front  of  it  was  a  big  stack  of 
firewood.  So  much  could  be  distinguished  in  the  dark- 
ness. When  Johnson  was  about  to  rap,  the  front  door 
was  thrown  open,  and  by  the  light  within  an  elderly 
woman  could  be  seen  peering  into  the  darkness. 

"Don't  be  alarmed,"  said  Johnson,  stepping  into  the 
faint  yellow  haze.  "We're  only  belated  travelers." 

"Bless  my  soul,  bless  my  soul!"  cried  the  little  wo- 
man in  a  series  of  rapid  ejaculations  without  a  pause. 


SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE   THEIR  LEAFE  l^l 

She  was  not  in  the  least  perturbed,  but  continued : 

"I'm  not  a  bit  surprised.  I  knew  it  when  the  old 
rooster  came  to  the  door  this  morning  and  crowed  and 
crowed  and  crowed.  'All  right/  I  said,  'get  along  with 
you.  If  God  had  given  you  a  tongue  you'd  tell  me  who 
it  is,  but  you've  done  yer  best  and  the  best  of  us  can 
do  no  "more.' ' 

"I'll  help  the  rooster  out,"  said  Johnson,  laughing. 
"My  name  is  Carter.  This  is — my  daughter,  and  these 
gentlemen  some  friends  of  mine." 

"I'll  give  you  as  good  as  yer  send;  my  name  is 
Phoebe  Moon — come  in — it's  a  poor  home,  but  the 
door  opens  inward.  I  thought  at  fust  you  was  Eph." 

"Your  husband?"  inquired  Johnson  as  the  party 
stepped  into  the  low-ceiled,  kitchen-like  room. 

"Why,  bless  yer  soul,  no,  Eph's  my  boy,"  said  the 
wiry  little  old  woman  bustling  around  to  find  seats  for 
the  company.  "My  old  man's  in  the  next  room  clean 
daft.  Dear,  oh,  dear!  Dear,  oh,  dear!"  she  sighed. 

"How  sad!"  said  Johnson. 

"Isn't  it?"  she  asked,  with  a  frankness  that  was  com- 
plete. "One  of  yer  will  have  to  take  this  two-legged 
stool.  You  sit  here,  my  dear,"  she  rattled  on  to  Helen. 
"Where  may  you  be  from?" 

"Perhaps  we  intrude?"  said  Johnson  speaking  up. 

"Intrude?  Don't  think  of  it.  Lord,  what  is  there 
here  to  intrude  on?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Moon  in  un- 
feigned astonishment. 

Hard  living  had  made  truth  with  her  an  invariable 
and  irreducible  quality. 


142  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  was  thinking  of  your  husband,"  suggested  John- 
son. 

"Heavens  and  earth,  why  if  he  knew  you  were  here 
the  powers  that  be  couldn't  keep  him  from  taking  a 
hand  in  this." 

Addressing  Helen  as  the  feminine  head  of  the  party 
Mrs.  Moon  continued: 

"He's  daft  on  quality;  spends  his  time  talking  to  jus- 
tices and  generals  and  ladies.  Lord,  he  has  barely  set 
his  eyes  on  any  of  'em,  although  he  was  a  parson  once, 
my  dear.  Introduces  them  to  one  another,  dines  with 
'em,  bows  them  out  and  God  knows  what  other  spook- 
ish  business.  We  daren't  cross  him.  He  is  married 
just  at  present  to  Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer  and  hasn't  a 
word  to  say  to  a  poor  thing  like  me.  Oh,  Lord!  Oh, 
Lord !  It's  a  fearful  maggot  as  has  got  into  his  head, 
but  we  don't  complain,  for  he's  just  as  happy  as  if  it 
were  all  gospel;  but  here  I  am  talking  and  talking 
when,  of  course,  all  of  you  have  not  had  a  bite  to  eat, 
and  there's  little  in  the  house  except  a  bit  of  salt  pork 
unless  I  can  squeeze  the  hens  and  get  an  egg  or  two  for 
you." 

"We  don't  mean  to  eat  you  out  of  house  and  home," 
said  Johnson.  "We  have  food  with  us  and  we  shall  be 
very  grateful  if  you  will  permit  us  to  cook  it  and  beg  of 
you  a  bed  for  to-night  for  Miss — my  daughter." 

"Let  me  do  the  cooking,"  cried  Helen,  jumping  to 
her  feet. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  the  like?    Why — 

Before  Mrs.  Moon  had  completed  her  protest  a  low, 


SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE  THEIR  LEAVE  143 

uneven,  leather-hinged  door  on  the  left  opened  and  a 
big,  flabby  man  entered  from  the  adjoining  room.  He 
stood  irresolutely  for  a  moment  on  the  threshold.  His 
meek,  blue  eyes,  surrounded  by  watery  red  lids,  gazed 
vacantly  at  the  unexpected  company. 

"Here  are  some  friends  called  to  see  us,  Caleb,"  said 
his  wife.  "I  told  you  this  morning  when  the  rooster 
came  and  crowed  and  crowed  and  crowed  to  look  out." 

"Friends  of  your?"  he  muttered  enviously,  at  the 
same  time  squeezing  his  eyes  like  one  struggling  to 
awake. 

"Close  the  door,  do,  Caleb,  and  sit  down,"  command- 
ed the  wife,  who  was  busy  starting  a  fire  in  the  big, 
rough  stone  fireplace.  "You  see,"  she  whispered  to 
Helen,  "he  can't  understand  how  I  should  know  any 
one — not  that  I  do,  you  know.  Dear!  Dear!  the  fire 
won't  hurry.  Something  evil's  whistling  close  by,  and 
that  always  calls  the  draught  away,  always  affects  Ca- 
leb, too.  You  see  his  spirit's  out." 

Helen  smiled  and  turning  to  Mr.  Moon  heard  him 
mutter  in  a  disappointed  tone : 

"I  was  looking  for  Captain  Gallup." 

"He'll  be  here  by  and  by,  said  Dr.  Bruce.  "We  met 
him  on  the  way.  He  was  detained,  that's  all." 

"Oh !"  exclaimed  the  old  man  vacantly. 

He  withdrew  to  a  corner  and  stood  in  the  gloom  with 
folded  arms,  leaning  against  the  wall. 

Despite  the  evil  whistling,  the  sticks  finally  burned 
briskly  and  then  more  brightly  illuminated  the  room — 
the  uneven  floor,  the  rough  board  walls  with  stretched 


144  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

pelts  nailed  upon  them,  the  smoke-stained  beams  above 
from  which  many  skins  were  suspended,  looking  as 
though  the  original  possessors  had  been  evaporated. 
The  furniture  was  of  the  roughest.  The  primitive  ori- 
gin of  all  of  it  was  indubitably  attested  by  makeshift  ex- 
pedients. 

While  the  meal  was  cooking  Johnson  and  the  men 
returned  to  the  hillside  to  arrange  the  encampment  for 
the  night.  During  the  preparation  Mrs.  Moon  rattled 
on  to  Helen  without  cessation.  Her  volubility  was  as 
inconsequential  as  a  child's.  Evidently  the  visit  was 
not  an  incident  in  a  remote  existence,  but  an  event  of 
incalculable  proportions.  The  old  woman  was  testify- 
ing the  fact  by  a  frantic  excitement  of  speech.  Helen 
found  it  difficult  to  keep  pace  with  her  so  rapidly  did 
her  chatter  flit  about  among  household  details,  small 
episodes  and  strange  notions  incredibly  tangled  with 
the  commonplace.  While  her  tongue  wagged  her  fin- 
gers were  busy  at  the  fire  and  the  table,  and  in  rum- 
maging into  out-of-the-way  places  for  utensils  evi- 
dently seldom  used  by  the  household. 

"I  wish  this  was  a  decent  meal  you  were  going  to  sit 
down  to,"  she  said,  "but  a  poor  woman's  larder  is  filled 
with  pork  and  wishes,  and  one's  too  heavy  and  the  oth- 
er's too  light  for  genteel  eating,  but  what  the  Lord 
hasn't  provided  you'll  have  to  excuse." 

"What  you  have  is  delicious,  I'm  sure,"  said  Helen. 
"It  smells  very  appetizing." 

"It  will  do  if  your  taste  don't  quarrel  with  your  ap- 
petite, my  dear.  Shall  I  make  you  raspberry  tea?  1 


SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE  THEIR  LEAVE  145 

gathered  the  leaves  myself  when  the  moon  was  on 
them.  I  like  it  better  than  dittany  or  sage." 

"I  don't  think  I  ever  tasted  raspberry  tea,"  said 
Helen. 

"No?  Or  dried  pumpkin  sweetnin',  eh !  Well,  that's 
the  best  we  get  out  here.  Eph's  real  fond  of  it.  I  can't 
help  being  curious,  but  I  suppose  you're  engaged  to 
that  stoutest  man  with  your  father?" 

Helen  blushed  as  she  tried  to  ask  indifferently: 

"Whom  do  you  mean?" 

"The  little  squat  fellow  with  the  small  black  eyes.  I 
tell  Eph,  my  dear,  the  first  sign  a  man  gives  is  when  he 
stares  at  a  girl  as  a  toad  does  at  a  light." 

Helen  laughed  heartily  at  this  recognition  of  Col. 
Claus's  hitherto  unsuspected  admiration.  She  felt 
somehow  more  at  ease  with  herself  on  account  of  the 
direction  in  which  Mrs.  Moon's  inquiry  had  been  shot. 

"Oh,  no,"  she  said  frankly.  "He's  almost  a  stranger 
to  me." 

The  men  returned,  and  in  a  spirit  of  generous  amia- 
bility the  party  sat  down  to  the  meal.  Johnson  brought 
brandy  from  the  camp  and  made  a  punch  which  every 
one  shared  out  of  a  big  leather  mug  which  Mrs.  Moon 
produced  as  a  particular  mark  of  honor  to  her  guests. 
Johnson  insisted  upon  Mr.  Moon  joining  the  com- 
pany. 

"We  would  like  our  host  to  greet  us,"  said  Johnson, 
"and  receive  from  us  our  toast  and  compliments  to  him- 
self and  his  wife,  to  both  of  whom  we  are  deeply  in- 
debted this  evening. 


146  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

The  sentiment  was  noisily  supported  by  Claus,  who 
thawed  quickly  under  the  feeblest  radiation  of  comfort. 

"Bravo!"  cried  Bruce.    "Hear!    Hear!" 

At  the  invitation  the  old  man  stepped  silently  like  a 
ghost  out  of  his  corner  and  took  the  seat  which  Ralph 
had  risen  to  proffer  him. 

He  regarded  the  company  sleepily,  and  in  dull  obe- 
dience drank  heavily  of  the  liquor.  Apparently  he  was 
still  only  half  conscious  of  the  situation.  But  the 
brandy  touched  some  dormant  spring  of  intelligence. 
While  Claus  was  struggling  with  a  florid  toast  to  Helen 
he  arose  and,  leaning  across  the  table,  cried : 

"You're  Capt.  Gallup;  that's  who  you  are." 

"The  name  ill  fits  his  marching,"  cried  Bruce,  laugh- 
ing, "however  close  it  goes  to  his  identity." 

"Don't  mind  that  gentleman,"  waved  the  Colonel. 
"You  have  touched  me,  sir,  in  a  tender  spot,  I  assure 
you.  I  am  proud  to  acknowledge  the  name,  sir;  mine, 
if  not  by  long  descent,  at  least  by  an  interminable  rec- 
ollection." 

"I  know  you've  held  it  long  enough  to  make  it  a  very 
decent  name,"  said  the  old  man,  amid  the  laughter  of 
the  company,  "and  your  father,  too,  the  justice,  was  a 
high-minded  man.  He  thought  a  great  deal  of  my  pres- 
ent wife,  formerly  Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer." 

"Just  listen  to  that  daft  creature !"  cried  Mrs.  Moon, 
who  was  replenishing  the  fire. 

"Hold  your  tongue,"  commanded  Mr.  Moon. 

Turning  to  the  company  he  continued:  "People 
won't  keep  their  places  these  days." 


SOME  OF  THE  PARTT  TAKE  THEIR  LEAVE  147 

"Lord,  but  the  poor  thing  has  lost  his!"  sighed  Mrs. 
Moon.  Her  remark  was  no  bolder  than  comment  ad- 
dressed to  herself. 

The  awakening  of  Mr.  Moon  at  this  moment  was  a 
surprise  for  which  no  one  was  prepared  in  the  slightest 
degree.  "  The  sad  vacuity  of  the  old  man  was  suddenly 
peopled  by  a  brilliant  phantasmagoria  in  the  midst  of 
which  his  own  transformed  person  played  a  command- 
ing part.  Some  curtain  had  been  withdrawn  from  be- 
fore the  mind  permitting  a  distorted  imagination  to 
play  either  among  old  recollections  or  with  the  stored 
results  of  reading.  He  insisted  upon  introducing  "My 
wife,  Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer  that  was,"  to  each  member 
of  the  party,  whom  he  named  with  the  fluency  of  long 
familiarity. 

Bruce  was  Justice  Chew,  Johnson  was  Dominie  Stu- 
art, Ralph  was  Capt.  Winn,  Helen,  Miss  Laura  Ames. 
He  added  to  the  company,  with  touches  of  reality  that 
were  corporeal,  Mrs.  Evertson,  Dr.  Smith,  Gen.  Schuy- 
ler,  Lord  Howe  and  Mr.  Binn,  "a  pestiferous  little  red- 
haired  rat,"  who  greatly  troubled  him.  He  ordered  in 
musicians  with  bass-viols,  clarionets  and  flutes.  He  en- 
tirely reset  the  table  with  drinking  cups  and  chargers, 
and  insisted  that  Johnson  as  the  dominie  should  take 
his  seat  "above  the  salt."  He  commanded,  and  appar- 
ently the  order  was  served,  ducks,  neck  of  mutton, 
whipped  sillabubs,  parmesan  cheese  and  porter. 

Bruce  and  Claus  were  immensely  entertained  by  his 
humors.  They  played  second  fiddle  to  his  fantasies  and 
occasionally  led  the  dance. 


148  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  must  confess,  Mr.  Moon,  you  show  a  neat  talent 
at  ordering  a  dinner,"  cried  Claus. 

"You  honor  me,  Captain,"  said  the  old  man. 

"Let  me  warn  you,  sir,"  cried  Bruce,  "the  Captain's 
taste  is  really  very  menial,  I  doubt  greatly  whether  he'd 
be  content  above  a  week  with  refined  fare  like  this.  He'd 
change  it  all  for  Indian  pudding  and  molasses." 

"The  Justice  is  given  to  pleasantry,  eh?"  said  the  old 
man,  knowingly,  to  Claus.  "I  know  him." 

"I'm  glad,"  cried  Claus,  "for  in  this  case  that's  my 
only  protection." 

"Though  I  guess  Capt.  Gallup,  at  a  pinch,  can  take 
care  of  himself.  What  do  you  say,  dear  Mrs.  Evertson?" 

The  lady  was  somewhere  in  mid-air  close  to  Mr. 
Moon,  for  the  old  man  in  a  low  tone  of  gallantry  asked 
the  question  of  vacancy. 

"I  fear  you  are  in  danger  yourself,  sir,"  said  Bruce, 
"if  manners  didn't  prevent  Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer  speak- 
ing her  mind." 

The  idea  tickled  the  old  man. 

"Ha!  ha!"  he  laughed.  "You  side  with  authority, 
Captain." 

"Always,  particularly  when  it's  feminine." 

"Authority  never  can  be  feminine.  Eh,  Miss  Helen?" 
asked  Johnson. 

"Do  you  deny  force  to  woman?"  asked  Helen. 

"No,  no!  Heaven  forbid!"  said  Johnson,  "but  the 
feminine  side  of  it  is  persuasion." 

"What  have  you  done  with  Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer — 
my  wife?"  asked  the  old  man,  suddenly. 


SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE  THEIR  LEAVE  149 

"Me,  sir?"  asked  Bruce. 

"She  was  between  you  two,"  cried  the  old  man. 

"Here?"  demanded  Claus.  "In  that  case  the  lady 
must  have  been  sorely  tasked  for  breath.  I  don't  won- 
der she  disappeared." 

"I  will  have  no  fooling  with  my  wife,  sir !"  cried  the 
old  man,  rising. 

"You  wrong  the  lady,  sir;  she  is  entirely  too  spiritual 
to  suffer  at  my  hands,"  said  Claus. 

"Here,  here,  Claus;  careful!"  said  Johnson,  in  warn- 
ing. 

"In  this  matter  I'm  like  the  fellow  who  said  he  had 
removed  his  hose  without  taking  off  his  shoes,"  said 
Claus. 

"Cut  them  off,"  suggested  Ralph. 

"'No,  no.  His  shoes  were  not  on,"  cried  the  Colonel, 
laughing. 

Mr.  Moon  started  angrily  for  the  other  side  of  the 
table,  but  was  arrested  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  a 
tall  man,  who  without  a  premonitory  sound  stepped 
across  the  threshold  out  of  the  night. 

"Hallo,  Eph !"  was  Mrs.  Moon's  greeting. 

"Well,  mother,"  was  the  reply. 

Without  bestowing  the  slightest  apparent  attention 
upon  the  company  the  gaunt  trapper  threw  his  hat  in- 
to a  corner  and  sat  himself  on  a  stout  wooden  box  near 
the  fireplace. 

"Tired,  Eph?"  Now,  don't  tell  me  yer  not;  don't  I 
see  you  are  tired  as  yer  can  be." 

"No,  I'm  not,"  was  the  reply. 


I5O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

The  tone  was  surely,  but  (as  with  the  rough,  indif- 
ferent manner)  it  was  only  an  external  refuge  of  a  shy, 
unpractised  habit. 

"This  is  your  son?"  suggested  Johnson. 

"This  is  my  boy,  Eph,"  replied  Mrs.  Moon.  Eph, 
these  gentlemen " 

"Found  your  home  on  their  way  to-night  and  ven- 
tured to  intrude  for  the  sake  of  this  young  lady,"  said 
Johnson. 

"The  trapper's  eyes  passed  slowly  from  Johnson  to 
Helen.  Then  the  gleam  of  curiosity  was  extinguished. 

"Your  father  has  given  us  a  royal  entertainment," 
said  Bruce. 

"Mrs.  Moon  certainly  has  been  more  than  civil," 
said  Ralph. 

Johnson  and  Helen  joined  the  chorus  of  gratitude. 
Each  remark  was  received  by  the  trapper  like  a  stone 
thrown  into  a  mud  bank.  It  made  a  momentary  im- 
pression and  was  effaced  as  it  visibly  sank  beneath  the 
surface. 

An  awkward  silence  ensued,  broken  at  last  by  the 
question: 

"Who  are  those  men  out  yonder?"  asked  Ephraim. 

"They  are  my  party,"  said  Johnson. 

"I  thought  they  might  be  Dayton's  folks,"  said  the 
trapper. 

"Dayton !"  cried  Johnson  in  alarm. 

"What  have  you  heard  of  him?"  demanded  Claus. 

"Yesterday  at  Barker's  they  said  he  was  on  his  way 
out  here." 


SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE  THEIR  LEAVE  !$! 

''Barker's!"  repeated  Brant;  "near  the  Signal  Post?" 

Ephraim  assented  by  a  nod  of  the  head. 

"Had  they  passed  there  yet?"  asked  Brant. 

"Don't  know,"  replied  Ephraim  with  exasperating 
indifference,  "I  was  making  for  Gus  Smith's." 

"By  God !    They'll  trap  us  yet,"  cried  Claus  in  alarm. 

"Hold  on,"  said  Johnson.  "Mr.  Moon,  if  they  had 
already  passed  Barker's  surely  you  would  have  heard  it, 
wouldn't  you?" 

"Maybe.     Maybe  not." 

Johnson's  foot  tapped  the  floor  petulantly. 

"If  Dayton  should  come  here  after  we  are  gone  can 
I  count  on  your  knowing  as  little  about  our  move- 
ments?" asked  Johnson.  There  was  annoyance  and  a 
touch  of  spirit  in  the  question. 

"Are  you  Sir  Johnson?"  demanded  Ephraim,  rising, 
his  gaunt  figure  illuminated  by  the  glow  of  the  embers. 
The  question  had  the  force  of  a  challenge. 

"I  am,"  said  Johnson. 

"Then  save  yourself;  there's  none  here  you  can  trust 
to," 

"That  has  the  ring  of  rebellion,"  cried  Bruce. 

"Yes,"  said  Johnson;  "and,  to  be  fair,  the  frankness 
of  honesty.  Well,  gentlemen,  this  is  a  serious  turn. 
Miss  Helen,  what  are  we  to  do  with  you?  Leave  you 
here?" 

Helen  glanced  quickly  at  old  Mr.  Moon  standing 
before  her,  his  mad  flash  burned  again  to  the  socket; 
at  Mrs.  Moon,  trembling  under  a  sense  of  unknown 
clanger;  at  Ephraim,  the  gaunt,  hairy  and  implacable, 


THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

facing  Johnson.  The  situation  was  not  an  inviting  one. 
Finally  her  eye  caught  Ralph's. 

"You  know  my  conditions,  Sir  Johnson,"  she  said. 

"And  you  mine." 

"I  have  nothing  to  say,  then,"  said  Helen,  firmly. 

"Well,  I'm  sorry  you  continue  to  force  my  hand," 
said  Johnson,  with  a  shrug.  Then  turning  to  Ephraim, 
he  said: 

"Before  we  go  we  would  like  to  discharge  our  in- 
debtedness to  you  and  your  family,  sir." 

"You  don't  owe  nothing  here  that  ain't  paid  when 
you  leave.  You're  welcome  to  the  little  we  have.  If 
it  had  been  more  you'd  be  welcome  to  it  as  strangers." 

The  fellow  evidently  did  not  mean  to  be  uncivil,  but 
there  is  an  honesty  that  repulses  more  than  rudeness. 

Within  half  an  hour  the  expedition  was  plunged 
again  in  the  woods,  moving  as  rapidly  as  possible  by  a 
circuitous  route  which  Brant  hoped  might  baffle  any 
pursuers. 

During  the  next  five  days  the  tramp  continued  a 
weary  struggle  through  forest  underbrush.  The  coun- 
try became  wilder  and  more  mountainous.  The  only 
relief  obtained  was  when  a  trail  was  struck.  Not  a 
habitation  was  seen.  The  party  was  moving  by  com- 
pass. At  nightfall  encampments  were  pitched  on  the 
banks  of  streams  and  on  hillsides,  wherever  a  suitable 
spot  could  be  found.  Fatigue  was  slackening  the  pace 
of  the  men.  Halts  were  frequently  called,  after  which 
the  road  was  resumed  with  a  sullen  determination, 


SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE  THEIR  LEAVE  I  53 

gradually  giving  place  to  despair.  Helen  suffered 
greatly,  but  struggled  resolutely  to  meet  the  efforts  of 
the  men  to  help  her  along.  Johnson  ordered  many 
rests  on  her  account,  and  improvised  a  litter  upon 
which  she  was  carried  wherever  possible. 

"I  didn't  calculate  on  this  task,  even  for  myself," 
said  Johnson.  "I'm  sorry  I  dragged  you  into  it." 

The  master  was  so  thoroughly  crushed  that  Helen 
had  no  heart  to  upbraid  him. 

Ralph  was  in  a  state  of  desperation  regarding  Helen. 
The  knowledge  that  the  girl  had  sacrificed  herself  for 
him  was  appalling.  He  could  see  nothing  but  disas- 
ter ahead.  He  consulted  Brant  frequently,  and  ap- 
pealed to  him  with  fervor  that  visibly  affected  the  In- 
dian. 

"Johnson's  commands  are  not  law  in  a  case  like  this. 
The  girl  must  be  saved.  Do  you  understand  me?" 

"Yes,  my  friend;  but "' 

"Damn  all  other  considerations!" 

"Ah;  but  it  is  not  so  easy." 

"You  must  find  a  way  for  me.  Mind,  if  anything 
happens  I'll  shoot  Johnson  like  a  dog.  There  are  two, 
perhaps  three,  to  save." 

"You  love  her?"  asked  Brant,  slowly. 

Ralph  did  not  reply. 

"Do  you?"  the  Indian  asked. 

"Why  do  you  ask?" 

"Because,  my  friend,  you  ought  to." 

"Why  do  you  say  that?" 

"You  have  eyes  as  I  have,  and  I  have  seen," 


154  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

For  a  moment  Ralph  was  silent.  Then  he  broke  out 
again : 

"What  are  we  to  do,  Brant?  Help  me,  and  I  swear 
I  will  add  a  thousandfold  to  all  I  owe  you." 

Then  the  Indian  was  silent.  Taking  Ralph's  hand, 
he  said : 

"You  must  wait  a  little.  To-morrow  I  think  we 
shall  reach  the  Elk  River.  You  will  be  about  thirty 
miles  from  the  big  lake,  where  you  can  find  your  way 
to  the  fort  at  Crown  Point.  You  will  risk  the  journey 
with  her  and  Mr.  Gist?" 

"Risk  it !  I'll  risk  anything.  But  can  she  do  it,  my 
friend?" 

"Perhaps.  Love  will  help  her,  and  Gist  is  a  strong 
man." 

"You  leave  me  out  of  the  calculation,"  said  Ralph 
smiling. 

"No;  but  you  haven't  told  me  you  love  her." 

"Only  because  I  can't.    I " 

"You  don't  know,  eh?" 

"I  don't  know,"  repeated  Ralph. 

"Well,  tell  Gist  to  be  ready.  But  I  would  say  noth- 
ing to  Miss  Scott  yet." 

The  following  night  a  resting  place  was  chosen  on  a 
deep,  wooded  hillside  under  a  clump  of  very  tall  trees 
within  the  forest.  The  trees  formed  almost  a  circle  and 
their  united  branches  formed  a  species  of  foliated  dome 
high  in  the  air  above.  At  their  base  there  was  no 
small  growth  of  struggling  sapplings;  nothing  but 
some  small  plants  and  a  few  wild  raspberry  bushes. 


SOME  OF  THE  PARTY  TAKE  THEIR  LEAVE  155 

Within  the  circle  the  station  for  the  night  was  fixed. 
In  the  centre  a  big  fire  was  lighted,  the  red  glow  of 
which  illuminated  the  forest  amphitheatre  and  created 
strange  shadows  beyond  in  the  dark  wood  pathways. 

While  the  evening  meal  was  preparing  the  men  gath- 
ered around  the  huge  fire.  Johnson  and  Claus  sat 
watching  the  stream  of  ascending  sparks  that  were 
mounting  incessantly  into  the  gloom  above.  Ralph 
was  half  lost  in  reverie,  when  he  felt  some  one  touch 
him  lightly  on  the  shoulder.  At  a  sign  he  rose  and  fol- 
lowed Brant. 

The  two  withdrew  into  the  darkness. 

"Where  is  Miss  Helen?"  whispered  Brant. 

"There  she  is,"  answered  Ralph,  pointing  across  the 
fire. 

"Do  you  hear  the  murmur  of  the  river  down  there?" 

Ralph  could  distinctly  hear  the  fretting  of  water 
over  stones. 

"That,"  continued  Brant— "that  is  the  Elk  River.  It 
flows  in  the  valley  below  between  these  hills.  Go  to 
Miss  Scott  and  Gist.  Whisper  to  them  to  withdraw, 
one  after  the  other,  to  this  tree.  Meet  them  here  your- 
self. Then,  as  silently  as  possible,  steal  down  the  hill- 
side. Wade  across  the  stream.  The  night  is  clear  and 
if  the  waters  are  not  high — and  they  ought  not  to  be, 
for  we  have  had  little  rain — you  will  find  something 
like  a  pathway  over  the  stones  on  the  other  side.  Go 
down  stream  and  then  hide  in  the  woods.  Some 
search  may  be  made  for  you.  I'll  attend  to  that.  Our 
direction  is  the  other  way,  and  they'll  give  you  up 


156  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

soon.  Go  down — always  down — stream  until  you 
reach  civilization.  Keep  to  the  stream  as  your  guide. 
When  you  reach  Lake  Champlain  you  will  be  within 
sight  of  the  Crown  Point  forts.  There  you  will  be 
safe.  At  the  bottom  of  this  little  lane  I  have  placed  a 
bag  of  food  for  you  and  a  couple  of  pistols.  I  am  sorry 
I  can't  go  with  you,  but "  Brant  faltered. 

"What  can  I  say  to  you?  How  can  I  repay  you?" 
Ralph  asked,  taking  the  Indian's  hand  in  his. 

"By  keeping  me  in  your  heart  until  I  see  you  again." 


CHAPTER  XV. 
THE  CROWN  POINT  FORT. 

RALPH  tried  vainly  to  give  me  some  account  of  the 
journey  down  the  Elk.  His  recollections  consisted  of 
nothing  but  confused  impressions  of  a  long  chasm 
topped  with  trees,  swirling  water  boiling  and  eddying 
among  the  sun-burned  boulders,  and  a  forlorn  strug- 
gle along  weary  mile  after  mile  to  support  Helen  and 
carry  her  to  some  habitation.  The  probabilities  are 
that  the  final  burden  of  the  journey  fell  upon  Gist,  but 
the  farmer  had  nothing  to  tell  of  it,  except : 

"Well,  we  got  into  the  fort  all  right  a  trifle  late  one 
evening." 

The  fort  was  built,  it  will  be  remembered  by  Am- 
herst  at  Crown  Point  in  the  middle  of  the  century.  It 
was  intended  to  check  the  inroads  from  Canada  of  the 
French  and  their  Indian  allies.  Indeed,  a  French  fort 
already  occupied  the  site,  but  was  demolished  by  the 
English.  Unquestionably  real  military  instinct  select- 
ed the  spot,  as  it  effectively  commanded  the  passage  of 
the  lake  southward.  At  this  point  the  land  sweeps 
around  a  bay  like  the  lower  part  of  a  big  letter  G,  and 
it  is  on  the  small  projection,  where  the  waters  narrow 
to  the  width  of  a  broad  river,  that  the  fort  stands.  The 
wide  curvature  of  land  on  the  west  bordered  by  high 
hills,  rising  one  behind  another,  is  extremely  pictur- 
esque in  outline.  To  the  east,  in  Vermont,  on  the  other 


158  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

side  of  the  lake  (which  here,  to  the  north,  is  very  broad 
and  blue),  stretch  alluvial  flat  lands,  climbing  for  miles 
in  many  undulations  to  the  foot  of  the  Green  Moun- 
tains. The  fort — so  Ralph  told  me — is  a  big  affair, 
comprising  many  two-storied  massive  stone  and  brick 
buildings,  all  encircled  by  high  earthworks,  which  rise 
above  the  buildings  so  that  from  them  one  can  look 
down  onto  the  multitude  of  chimneys  and  the  great 
parade  ground.  I  believe  the  fort  was  never  fully  oc- 
cupied. When  Ralph,  Helen  and  Gist  sought  its  shel- 
ter it  was  almost  deserted.  The  patriots  had  seized  it  a 
short  time  previous  as  a  consequence  of  Ethan  Allen's 
heroic  enterprise  at  the  forts  lower  down  the  lake  at 
Ticonderoga.  The  authorities  did  not  deem  it  neces- 
sary to  hold  it  in  force,  and  it  was  in  charge  of  a  small 
body  of  men,  commanded  by  a  Capt.  Murray,  when 
the  party  arrived. 

The  fugitives  were  received  with  kindness,  and  quar- 
ters were  assigned  them  in  the  officers'  building. 

For  three  days  Helen  was  confined  to  her  room  in 
the  care  of  a  Mrs.  Stoddard,  the  wife  of  a  broken-down 
Methodist  parson.  Mrs.  Stoddard  was  a  mild,  tall, 
middle-aged  woman.  She  was  a  muffled  being,  who 
mutely  glided  and  cringed,  and  was  forever  perform- 
ing a  sort  of  dry  wash  on  her  thin,  boney  hands  with 
imaginary  soap  and  water.  Ralph  likened  her  to  "this- 
tledown." Certainly  she  was  as  light  and  noiseless  as 
those  floating  summer  spheres.  Her  presence  within 
the  grim,  heavy  walls  of  the  barracks  seemed  as  con- 
tradictory. Her  husband  was  a  coarse,  selfish  black- 


THE  CROWN  POINT  FORT  I5Q 

guard,  who  had  been  driven  from  place  to  place,  earn- 
ing a  living  as  he  moved  by  subterfuge  and  sponging. 
He  was  an  intruder  in  the  fort.  It  was  apparently  his 
last  refuge.  Even  upon  these  terms  he  took  life  with  a 
splendid  opulence.  He  was  one  of  those  superb  mill- 
ionaires of  poverty,  rich  in  boundless  egotism  and  as- 
surance, who  regard  each  to-morrow  as  their  honest 
debtor.  The  hard  selfishness  of  the  man's  fifty  years 
was  written  in  the  sensual  lines  of  his  raw-red  face  and 
in  his  shifting  eye;  the  pity  of  them  was  to  be  read  in 
that  mild  protest,  the  pale,  crushed  woman  who  clung 
to  him  even  when  sorrow  had  forsaken  her.  Poor,  ten- 
antless  life!  A  little  candle  was  lighted  somewhere 
in  its  vacancies  when  she,  the  only  woman  then  in  the 
fort,  began  to  nurse  Helen.  When  Helen  recovered 
and  extended  to  her  a  frank,  unquestioning  sympathy 
and  gratitude,  she  sobbed: 

"Please,  please,  don't  thank  me.  You  are  so  lovely; 
this  is  so  pleasant !  I  am  so  happy.  Don't  you  see?" 

Murray,  the  commander,  a  rough  country  fellow, 
full  of  an  adventurous  and  fighting  spirit,  spent  a  deal 
of  his  time  grumbling  at  inaction  and  gambling  with 
Stoddard.  They  settled  their  accounts  in  I.  O.  U.'s — a 
form  of  easy  payment  \vhich  affected  the  good  temper 
of  neither,  no  matter  how  large  the  amounts  were.  They 
were  a  splendidly  matched  pair  of  irresponsibles.  No 
doubt  each  had  taken  the  measure  of  the  other,  yet 
neither  questioned  in  the  slightest  the  pretensions  of 
his  fellow.  They  drank  freely,  slapped  one  another  on 
the  back  and  shared  sympathetically  their  mutual  dis- 


l6o  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

gust  of  present  conditions  and  their  splendid  anticipa- 
tions of  the  future.  They  were  poor  company  for  Ralph 
or  Gist,  both  of  whom  were  naturally  impatient  to  be 
off  south.  Murray  told  Ralph  he  didn't  know  when  it 
would  be  possible  to  go  down  to  Albany,  the  journey 
at  the  moment  being  dangerous  on  account  of  the  hos- 
tile attitude  of  the  Indians. 

"Take  it  easy  for  a  while,"  he  advised,  "We'll  get 
you  and  your  gal  on  as  soon  as  we  can.  I'm  expectin' 
to  hear  from  our  people  down  there  any  day." 

Thus  the  three  visitors  were  constrained  to  spend 
their  time  mostly  in  their  own  company.  They  wan- 
dered about  the  big  parade  ground  until  they  came  to 
know  every  stone  in  the  long  blocks  of  buildings  that 
flanked  it.  Their  favorite  recreation  was  lounging  on 
the  ramparts  of  the  earthworks  where  they  could  look 
out  over  the  blue  waters  of  the  lake  to  the  magnificent 
stretch  of  mountains  that  swept  around  them  on  al) 
sides. 

Gist  passed  many  hours  fishing  for  pike  and  pickerel 
off  the  ruins  of  the  old  French  Fort  Frederick.  Some- 
times Mrs.  Stoddard  would  join  Helen,  always  with  a 
solicitous : 

"Now  you  are  sure  I  am  not  intruding?" 

The  greater  part  of  the  time  Ralph  and  Helen  were 
alone.  Their  companionship  had  reached  a  stage  so 
hard  to  analyze  that  Ralph  deliberately  gave  it  up. 
Helen  had  in  a  most  unobtrusive  manner  become  his 
confidant  regarding  himself.  She  inspired  him  by  be- 
lieving in  him.  Her  healthy  nature  profoundly  influ- 


THE  CROWN  POINT  FORT  l6l 

enced  his  flexible  and  wandering  spirit.  More  than 
once,  as  he  recognized  this,  Brant's  last  question  in  the 
woods  flashed  upon  him.  Was  it  love?  What  was  it 
Brant  had  seen  in  Helen? 

Ralph  had  watched  her  intently.  If  love  were  there, 
the  light  was  so  steady  and  devoid  of  shadow  that  the 
watching  only  confused  him  the  more.  The  puzzle. 
provoked  him  perhaps  all  the  more  because  others 
apparently  saw  so  easily  what  he  after  much  difficulty 
missed. 

He  nearly  knocked  Stoddard  down  one  day  when 
that  individual  reminded  him  with  a  knowing  leer  that 
he  was  a  clergyman  and  "quite  competent  to  officiate, 
my  boy." 

Even  Gist  seemed  to  draw  himself  closer  to  him,  as 
though  anticipating  relationship. 

Ralph  perpetually  returned  to  the  subject  those 
dronish  summer  days  when  the  world  seemed  so  far 
off.  One  sunny  afternoon,  sitting  on  the  high  ram- 
parts under  the  shadow  of  a  cannon,  he  suddenly 
stopped  pulling  up  the  grass  to  ask: 

"Helen,  why  do  you  think  romance  is  humbug?" 

He  put  the  question  without  the  slightest  idea  of 
any  thing  further. 

"That  old  subject  again?"  she  said  smiling.  "It  is 
what  you  call  a  'horizon.'  You  know,"  she  continued 
laughing,  "the  business  of  a  'horizon'  is  to  move  away 
from  you  as  you  approach  it.  What  is  the  use  of  the 
'unattainable'?" 

"Then  what  is  love,  Helen?" 


1 62  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Helen  turned  away.  Ralph  could  see  her  heart  was 
throbbing  as  she  said  in  a  broken  voice: 

"A  holy  duty,  the  obligation  of  life." 

The  words  stirred  Ralph  as  the  summer  air  ruffled 
the  surface  of  the  lake.  They  seemed  to  plead. 

"A  holy  duty,"  he  repeated,  "the  obligation  of  life! 
Would  you  give  that  to  me,  Helen?" 

Turning  to  him,  Helen  answered  simply: 

"Yes,  gladly,  in  exchange  for  yours." 

He  drew  her  to  himself  and  kissed  her. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
RALPH  FORSWEARS  THE  PAST. 

I  HAVE  depicted  this  moment  in  the  career  of  my  two 
friends  so  briefly  because  naturally  even  the  most  in- 
timate can  know  little  of  the  details  of  events  so  in- 
tensely personal.  There  is  much,  however,  that  I 
have  tried  to  clear  up  for  my  own  understanding.  I 
must  confess  I  haven't  been  able  to  arrive  at  any  very 
distinct  conclusions.  Catrina,  no  doubt,  was  a  much 
nearer  complement  of  Ralph's  nature  than  was  Helen. 
She  was  of  his  world — not  only  of  his  locality  and  peo- 
ple, but  of  his  temperament  and  ideals.  I  can  under- 
stand how  powerful  Helen's  unsophisticated  appeal 
must  have  been  to  Ralph,  particularly  as  he  was  of  a 
make  especially  prone  at  that  time  to  exaggerate  per- 
sonal issues.  Helen's  stubborn  adherence  to  what  she 
regarded  at  first  as  an  obligation  easily  passed  over  to  a 
heroic  act  of  friendship.  Gaining  in  proportions,  as  it 
did  by  mere  continuance,  it  gained  also  for  Ralph  in 
significance.  I  can  also  see  how  Helen's  common- 
sense,  rising  at  times  to  so  high  a  pitch,  appealed  to 
him  as  a  more  substantial  form  of  his  own  vagrant 
emotions.  Her  wholesome  acceptance  of  the  com- 
monplace side  of  rough  existence  must  have  had  an  in- 
vigorating touch  upon  one  who  was  a  good  deal  of  a 
dreaming  idler.  Ralph's  attachment  was  the  result  of 


164  THE    HEART    OF    WOMAN 

admiration,  respect,  gratitude,  high  hope,  all  appearing 
in  the  guise  of  endearment.  What  it  lacked  was  pas- 
sion and  the  inconquerable  compulsion  of  the  heart. 

It  might  have  been  necessary  to  idle  away  a  deal 
of  time  in  the  fort  had  not  Helen  been  able,  soon  after 
her  arrival,  to  despach  a  letter  to  her  father.  When 
Scott  received  it,  his  rejoicing  was  pitiful  to  see.  For 
a  time  it  almost  crazed  him.  He  thought  the  note 
might  be  a  Tory  joke.  Fear  and  hope,  sorrow  and 
joy  alternated  so  quickly  that  the  old  gentleman  went 
among  his  neighbors  with  his  letter,  crying,  denounc- 
ing and  laughing  in  turns.  The  outcome  was  a  num- 
ber of  men  set  out  for  Crown  Point — the  risk  of  the 
journey  not  being  very  great,  for  the  country  was 
thicker  with  rumors  than  dangers — and  some  days  later 
the  three  lost  ones  returned  amid  great  rejoicing,  for 
the  story  abroad  was  that  Ralph,  Gist  and  Helen  had 
been  murdered  by  Johnson's  Mohawks.  Scott  was  half 
drunk  with  self-importance  and  wine.  When  Ralph 
told  him  his  tale  of  what  had  happened  in  the  fort,  he 
threw  his  arm  around  him  and  cried: 

"That  completes  it  all.  Helen  could  not  do  better, 
my  dear  boy.  Neither  could  you." 

Mrs.  Scott  would  have  the  wedding  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, and  her  wishes  ultimately  ruled,  although  Helen 
was  set  the  other  way. 

Indeed  there  was  very  little  of  the  eager  or  impa- 
tient in  Helen's  nature.  It  was  her  manner  quickly 
to  bring  everything  to  a  level.  Within  a  week  of  her 
return  home  she  was  in  her  old  place,  busy  to  the  last 


RALPH  FORSWEARS  THE  PAST  165 

hour  of  the  day  with  her  old  occupations.  Ralph  knew 
of  her  presence  more  by  a  sort  of  perpetual  sisterly 
touch  that  met  him  at  a  score  of  points  and  in  a  score 
of  ways  than  by  any  demonstration  of  a  lover's  affec- 
tion. In  the  evenings  the  two  strolled  around  the 
Manse  or  sat  on  the  lawn  under  the  trees,  talking  of 
everything  but  their  love,  while  within  the  house  a 
gathering  of  relatives,  attracted  to  the  Manse  like 
birds,  one  after  the  other,  by  some  feminine  instinct 
were  busy  with  delighted  industry  in  preparing  for  the 
event,  about  which  the  two  chief  participants  were  ap- 
parently so  indifferent. 

Helen  at  no  time  in  her  life  had  the  slightest  desire 
to  speak  of  any  of  her  feelings;  it  never  occurred  to  her 
to  give  them  utterance  and  thus  parade  them  and  in 
a  sense  set  them  up  for  inspection.  Perpetual  con- 
fession was  no  part  of  her  idea  of  love-making,  neither 
had  she  any  notion  of  the  lovers'  ecstatic  communion 
of  silence.  She  was  delighted  to  find  Ralph  was  not 
"foolish,"  and  she  accounted  it  another  warrant  for 
her  affection. 

At  this  time  Ralph  wrote  to  me  regarding  the  step 
he  had  taken.  It  was  a  dry  epistle,  mostly  given  up  to 
the  affair  with  Johnson  and  the  journey  through  the 
•woods.  He  invited  me  to  the  wedding,  and  concluded 
with  a  sentence  or  two  which  perhaps  I  dare  quote: 

Helen  is  most  anxious  to  see  you,  for  I  have  told 
her  so  much  of  you.  I  am  sure  you  will  like  her,  Alex, 
not  for  my  sake  alone,  but  because  you  will  recog- 
nize at  once  the  unmistakable  beauty  of  her  character! 


1 66  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

You  will  see  she  is  just  the  girl  for  me — clear-headed, 
domestic,  direct — the  very  opposite,  in  short,  of  your 
moody  and  wayward  friend. 

"An  affair  of  contraries,  eh?"  I  muttered  as  I  sat 
down  to  write  my  congratulations  and  promise  my 
presence  in  Albany  later. 

Ralph  wrote  also  to  his  aunt,  Mrs.  Heathcote. 
Upon  receiving  the  news  she  sent  asking  me  to  call  on 
her  at  once.  Since  my  friend's  departure,  I  had  paid 
her  several  visits,  and  we  were  on  most  cordial 
terms. 

"I  suppose  the  dreadful  news  has  reached  you?"  she 
began. 

"Why  dreadful,  madame?"  I  inquired. 

"Oh,  you  are  his  friend,  I  know,  and  sympathize 
with  him.  Relatives,  I  suppose,  go  further  in  matters 
like  these.  It  is  Isaac  Scott's  daughter,  isn't  it?  Dear, 
dear;  quite  unobjectionable,  I  presume.  Ralph  writes 
as  though  I  was  thoroughly  informed,  and  carried 
their  pedigrees  in  my  head." 

"Surely  you  don't  disapprove,"  I  said,  noticing  her 
peevish  manner. 

"Mr.  Adams,  unfortunately  I  can't.  It  is  worse: 
I  am  disappointed,  stricken,  if  I  may  say  so,  to  the 
heart." 

Not  quite  understanding  her  mood,  I  inquired 
whether  she  intended  making  the  journey  to  share  in 
the  festivities. 

"I  should  go  if  I  had  to  walk  every  step  of  the  way. 
He  is  my  only  boy,  Mr.  Adams." 


RALPH  FORSWEARS  THE  PAST  167 

She  always  referred  to  Ralph  in  that  motherly  way. 

Early  in  October,  on  a  glorious  Indian  summer  day, 
the  marriage  bells  were  set  ringing.  As  I  write  their 
ghostly  echoes  are  flung  again  to  the  wind,  but  some- 
thing now  is  added  to  their  tone  quite  inaudible  that 
distant  autumn  day.  How  impersonal  bells  are!  They 
have  the  same  note  for  every  one — for  rich  and  poor, 
young  and  old,  the  well  mated  and  the  badly  matched. 
To  all  alike  they  sing  in  cheery  cadence,  "Godspeed — I 
— wish — you."  It  is  only  the  echoes  that  reverberate 
through  the  days  and  years  afterward  that  catch  from 
life  the  spirit  of  joy  or  sorrow. 

At  Mrs.  Heathcote's  request — for  traveling  at  that 
moment  was  beset  with  great  difficulties,  on  account 
of  the  military  operations — I  accompanied  her  to  the 
Manse. 

We  arrived  the  evening  before  the  wedding.  So 
great  a  crowd  attended  the  ceremony  and  the  feast 
afterward  that  at  first  I  judged  Mr.  Scott  must  have 
sent  a  bellman  through  the  country  with  a  general  sum- 
mons. But  in  those  rural  parts,  unlike  our  towns,  every- 
body knows  everybody,  and  all  decent  people  are  inti- 
mate in  some  degree  with  one  another.  Besides,  Mrs. 
Scott's  family  must  have  been  numbered  by  the  hun- 
dred. So  many  aunts,  uncles,  cousins,  half-cousins 
and  fractional  relatives  never,  I  thought,  could  be 
gathered  within  the  circle  of  a  living  generation. 

For  a  w7eek  previous  to  the  wedding  they  all  turned 
to,  and  there  was  a  mighty  baking  of  pies  and  cakes. 
The  big  oven  at  the  Manse  was  fired  and  filled  twice  a 


1 68  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

day  regularly.  The  great  barn  was  cleared  out  and 
long  tables  were  set  in  it  for  the  "commonalty,"  the 
Indians  and  the  negroes.  The  dining-room  in  the 
house  was  reserved  for  the  "quality,"  and  as  we  all  sat 
down  in  it  on  the  wedding  day,  led  by  Ralph  and  his 
bride,  the  abundance  appeared  sufficient  to  provide  for 
the  couple  during  the  remainder  of  their  lives.  The 
long  room,  a  trifle  dark  in  tone  ordinarily,  was  made 
gay  with  golden  rod  and  the  rich  red  leaves  of  the 
sumac;  but  indeed  the  brightness  of  the  mahogany  and 
the  faces  present  were,  to  my  thinking,  enough  of 
decoration. 

When  we  were  all  seated  there  was  scarce  enough 
room  for  the  service  of  the  venison,  turkeys  and 
pigeon-pasties,  pumpkin  pies,  apple  tarts,  Indian  pud- 
dings and  other  viands,  though  I  must  not  forget  to 
mention  a  new  vegetable  that  was  given  us,  called 
"sellery,"  of  which  Scott  was  almost  as  proud  as  of  his 
wine. 

As  we  feasted,  shouting  and  laughter  came  from  the 
barn  without.  I  thought  it  harmonized  pleasantly 
with  our  own  quieter  jollity.  It  was  an  interesting 
domestic  spectacle.  On  both  sides  of  Ralph  and 
Helen  were  seated  several  grandmotherly  old  ladies, 
including  Mrs.  Scott,  who  insisted  on  remaining  with 
Helen. 

Ralph  received  his  dignities  with  quiet  enjoyment. 
Helen  evidently  regarded  the  entertainment  more  as  a 
family  gathering  than  as  a  feast  to  herself.  Scott  was 
in  his  best  mood  and  kept  the  tables  laughing  and 


RALPH  FORSWEARS  THE  PAST  169 

drinking.  He  called  for  toasts  for  every  one  and  with 
every  one;  an  exercise  in  which  he  was  nobly  sup- 
ported by  Parson  Cowles  and  another  timid  cleric, 
whose,  name,  I  think,  was  Payne.  Gen.  Schuyler,  too, 
was  in  excellent,  boisterous  spirits.  He  swore  that 
the  marriage  was  entirely  of  his  making,  for  had  he 
not  ordered  Johnson's  arrest  fhings  might  have  been 
very  different. 

"And  now,"  he  concluded,  "as  I  was  father  of  this 
event — damn  me !  I  think  I  am  entitled  to  appoint  my- 
self godfather  at  the  next  celebration." 

The  old  ladies  tittered  and  Helen  blushed  as  the 
laughter  circled  around  her. 

Amid  the  stir  Scott  arose,  crying: 

"We  have  not  heard  from  Uncle  Lom !  Where  are 
you,  Lom?  Is  his  glass  full  over  there?  Well,  then, 
I  call  on  Uncle  Lom  for  a  toast  to  the  bride  and 
groom.  Egad,  we  can't  leave  him  out.  I  call  for 
Uncle  Lom." 

Lom's  reputation  silenced  every  one.  Hitherto  he 
had  been  almost  unobserved.  He  had  placed  himself 
near  the  end  of  the  long  table  in  a  corner  of  the  room. 
Despite  the  expectancy  he  kept  his  seat  for  a  minute. 
When  he  arose  he  was  so  much  in  the  shadow  that  his 
features  were  scarcely  visible  to  me,  but  I  knew  by  the 
tone  of  his  voice  that  he  was  deeply  moved. 

"Helen,  my  dear,"  he  began  slowly,  "I  of  all  others 
don't  want  to  be  the  guest  without  the  wedding  gar- 
ment. Sitting  here,  I  have  been  trying  to  sum  up 
what  I  am  about  to  lose,  and  I  find  I  can't  calculate 


I/O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

it.  But  it  isn't  for  that  reason  I  haven't  joined  with  the 
others  in  hailing-  you  a  happy  woman  and  congratulat- 
ing the  young  man  to  whom  you  have  joined  your  life. 
I  wish  I  could  know  for  certain  whether  I  should  con- 
gratulate either  of  you.  The  marriage  day  always 
sings  for  itself.  The  joy  of  later  days  depends  greatly 
upon  whether  your  natures  and  the  inward  and  out- 
ward changes  that  the  years  must  bring  to  you  both 
ratify  the  act  you  have  just  performed.  No  doubt  I 
am  open  to  the  charge  of  being  a  pessimist  because  I 
can't  delight  in  that  dull  affection  which  in  nine  cases 
out  of  ten  succeeds  the  brief  ecstasy  of  this  moment. 
I  believe,  as  the  parson  has  just  said,  'marriages  are 
arranged  in  heaven,'  but  in  a  sense  vastly  different 
from  his.  In  the  case  of  most  couples  heaven  has  had 
less  to  do  with  the  mating  than  mere  proximity  and 
chance.  The  real  marriage — which  all  marriages  sim- 
ulate at  the  outset — is  rare,  as  all  other  precious  things 
are  rare,  because  it  requires  a  very  fortunate  combina- 
tion to  produce  it.  To  play  the  fiddle  well  is  not  given 
to  everybody.  It  needs  qualities,  if  it  is  to  be  done  at 
all.  Yet  we  think  it  easy  for  any  one  to  make  perfect 
music  from  the  most  delicate  and  sensitive  of  all  the 
chords  of  life.  Mere  effort  of  will  or  force  of  struggle, 
I  know,  won't  do  it  in  one  case  any  more  than  in  the 
other.  There  are  scores  of  fiddlers  for  the  one  master 
player,  and  in  thousands  of  homes  burn  two  dull 
candles  for  the  one  sanctuary  illuminated  by  the  divine 
inextinguishable  light  of  love.  Still,  Helen,  I  wish 
my  soul  could  go  with  you  as  your  servant.  If  I  could 


RALPH  FORSWEARS  THE  PAST  17 1 

pray  I  would  beg  that  any  blessing  I  am  entitled  to 
may  descend  upon  your  head." 

It  was  an  unhappy  speech. 

"Just  like  Lorn !"  every  one  muttered,  in  displeasure. 
"How  dare  he !" 

The  tears  were  in  Helen's  eyes.  For  Ralph  the  air 
was  suddenly  filled  with  reverberations  of  a  minor  key. 

The  company  were  right  glad  when  Scott  proposed 
a  change  of  scene  to  the  barn  outside  for  dancing. 
Reels  and  contra-dances  were  started  to  the  vigorous 
scraping  of  old  Phineas  Elmer's  fiddle,  and  as  though 
to  confound  Lom  everybody  found  it  answered  as  well 
as  the  finest  playing  of  the  great  master  Lom  had 
hinted  of. 

In  this  manner  the  day  declined.  The  twilight  con- 
verted the  merry  dancers  in  the  barn  into  moving 
shadows.  Ralph  stole  into  the  house  for  a  few  min- 
utes' respite  from  the  gayety.  As  he  entered  the  dark 
hall  he  met  some  one  coming  down  the  stairs. 

"Why,  my  dear  aunt,  is  that  you?"  he  asked,  as  the 
person  touched  him. 

"Ralph,  my  boy,  I  have  been  thinking  of  you.  I 
am  glad  to  have  you  alone  for  a  minute.  Come  in  here 
with  me." 

She  led  the  way  into  the  deserted  dining-room  and 
there  dropped  into  a  chair. 

She  took  both  Ralph's  hands  in  hers  as  he  stood 
before  her. 

"You  are  so  tall,  Ralph.  Do  you  mind  kneeling  so 
that  an  old  woman  who  loves  you  can  speak  to  you?" 


1/2  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

She  drew  her  nephew  down  gently.  This  simple 
action  and  the  position  in  which  Ralph  found  himself 
recalled  the  far-off  first  love  of  every  human  soul. 

"Ah,  my  boy!"  said  the  old  lady,  "I  am  glad  my 
thoughts  have  spoken  to  you.  I  daren't  kiss  you  for 
her,  for  that  is  too  sacred.  But  I  can  kiss  you  for  my- 
self. There!  May  you  be  happy!  And  now,  Ralph, 
I  am  going  to  give  you  another  kiss,  one  full  of  love 
on  behalf  of  somebody  who  in  deeper  sadness  than 
fills  my  heart  to-day,  would,  I  know,  if  she  were  only 
here,  wish  you  well  and  ask  God  to  bless  you — my 
other  child,  Catrina." 

As  she  placed  the  kiss  on  Ralph's  brow  it  seemed  to 
burn  there  and  her  words  whispered  to  him  something 
of  a  sad  reproach. 

Without  a  word  he  hurried  into  the  gloaming. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 
THE  BEGINNING  OF  DOUBT. 

AMONG  the  letters  that  came  to  Ralph  after  his  mar- 
riage was  one  from  Mr.  Whitehead  Hicks.  This  is 
how  it  ran : 

My  Dear  Ralph — Your  long  silence  makes  me 
deeply  anxious  about  you.  I  fear  you  must  be  suffer- 
ing in  health,  otherwise  I  know  I  should  have  had  at 
least  a  word  from  you  ere  this.  When  you  receive  this 
pray  remember  I  will  cheerfully  forgive  you  your  long 
silence  in  exchange  for  the  glad  news  'that  you  are 
well.  I  hope  I  am  troubling  about  nothing,  but  if  you 
recollect  you  didn't  even  hint  to  me  of  so  long  a  stay 
with  your  new  friends.  Indeed,  didn't  you  make  a 
near  but  indefinite  appointment  in  relation  to  your 
affairs?  As  I  promised  you,  I  set  about  preparing  a 
final  settlement  at  once  and  soon  had  everything  in 
tolerable  shape,  though  really  there  wasn't  much  to 
do.  Of  course,  as  you  can  imagine,  the  big  fire  that 
swept  away  almost  the  entire  eastern  half  of  New  York 
(started  by  some  villainous  rebel  when  His  Majesty's 
troops  entered  the  town)  destroyed,  I  deplore  to  tell 
you,  the  two  sugar  houses  which  your  father  took  so 
much  pride  in  building.  The  contents  also  were  en- 
tirely consumed.  Though  the  military  worked  very 
hard,  very  little  was  saved  for  any  one.  Certain  of 
our  accounts  kept  in  the  little  counting  house  by  Tyn- 
dall  are  burned,  so  that  much  of  my  careful  figuring 
goes  for  nothing,  but  that  is  a  small  matter  compared 
to  the  loss  of  so  much  valuable  property.  However, 


174  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

praise  be  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts !  His  Majesty  is  now 
firmly  possessed  of  this  rebellious  city.  We  are  scotch- 
ing the  traitors  whenever  they  dare  show  themselves. 
We  shall  not  spare  the  impudent  rogues,  and  I  am 
thankful  that  at  last  I  am  in  authority  to  assist  in  the 
retribution.  If  you  have  any  pressing  needs  don't 
hesitate  to  draw  for  any  moderate  sum  you  may  re- 
quire on  yours,  etc.,  etc. 

P.  S. — By  the  way,  have  you  heard  the  rumor  that 
Miss  Catrina  is  engaged.  I  hope  you  remember  what 
I  told  you  on  the  "Asia"  and  will  credit  rne  a  little  as  a 
good  prophet. 

"Isn't  he  an  unmitigated  scoundrel !"  cried  Ralph 
angrily,  as  he  handed  me  the  letter.  "He  must  have 
written  that  lying  epistle  purely  on  chance;  dropped  it 
as  it  were,  by  the  wayside,  to  serve  as  a  bit  of  stray 
evidence  in  case  of  eventualities." 

We,  I  mean  Ralph  and  myself,  were  sitting  on  the 
edge  of  the  river  bank  behind  the  Manse,  dangling  our 
feet  in  the  air  like  two  idle  schoolboys.  At  my  request 
Ralph  had  been  recounting  to  me  with  all  the  detail 
he  could  recall,  the  adventures  that  had  befallen  him 
since  we  parted  in  New  York.  In  the  course  of  his 
story  when  he  came  to  the  receipt  of  this  letter  he  took 
it  from  his  pocket  and  handed  it  to  me  to  read. 

"Yes,"  said  I,  returning  it,  "Hicks  is  a  few  shades 
blacker  than  I  ever  thought." 

"Is  he  really  in  power?"  asked  Ralph. 

"Oh,  dear,  yes,"  I  said.  "There  are  few  in  New 
York  bigger  than  he.  Hicks  is  naturally  fitted  for  a 
situation  of  the  sort  when  people  cease  to  be  curious 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  DOUBT  175 

about  the  civil  virtues.  His  is  a  predatory  genius,  just 
suited  to  these  times.  Clear  of  sight,  strong  of  will, 
given  to  unmitigated  action.  Howe  and  all  the  au- 
thorities rely  greatly  on  him.  Besides,  he  is  one  of 
those  men  who  always  keep  a  strain  on  the  rope  of  op- 
portunity and  take  in  every  inch  payed  out  to  them." 

"Umph!"  said  Ralph.  "How  am  I  to  deal  with 
him?" 

"He  will  not  be  an  easy  man  to  handle  roughly  now. 
You  see  there  are  no  civil  authorities  to  support  you. 
I  judge  it  impossible  to  force  him." 

"No  doubt,"  said  Ralph.     "What  remains?" 

"I  would  advise  you  to  meet  him  for  the  time  being 
with  his  own  weapons.  Play  his  game  with  him.  Ac- 
cept his  pretenses  as  though  you  believed  them.  Be 
quiet.  Say  little.  You  see  his  weak  point;  don't 
press  against  it." 

"Would  you  answer  that  letter?" 

"Surely.  Tell  him  of  Johnson's  violent  act  in  terms 
that  will  make  it  appear  you  haven't  the  slightest  idea 
he  was  concerned  in  it." 

"And  my  marriage?  Evidently  he  knows  nothing 
of  it." 

"Oh,  let  him  suppose  some  letter  of  yours  has  mis- 
carried." 

"Alex!  Alex!"  cried  Ralph,  laughing,  "I  had  little 
idea  my  old  friend  had  so  much  of  the  Michiavelli  in 
him." 

"My  dear  boy,  I  don't  believe  in  a  sword  any  more 
than  I  believe  in  deceit;  but  if  I  could  use  nothing  but  a 


1/6  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

sword  in  my  own  rightful  defense  I  would  sharpen  it  to 
the  last  degree." 

"I  am  not  disputing  the  temporal  wisdom  of  your 
philosophy,  Alex,  I  am  only  marvelling  how  left- 
handed  we  all  can  be.  Tell  me  what  can  Hicks  mean 
by  his  repeated  references  to " 

He  hesitated. 

"Catrina?"  I  asked. 

"Yes.  Of  course  there  isn't  the  slightest  truth  in 
what  he  says?" 

"Do  you  think  he  has  any  aspirations  himself?"  I 
asked  at  random. 

"Great  heavens !"  he  cried,  as  though  I  had  struck 
him. 

He  rose  and  paced  the  river  bank,  repeating  fiercely : 

"No!  no!  no!" 

"Why  not?"  I  asked,  pushing  my  thought  home. 
"If  the  beautiful  girl  is  not  an  attraction,  surely  her 
comfortable  fortune  might  be  to  a  struggling  adven- 
turer." 

"Good  God,  Alex,  hush !" 

I  was  surprised  to  see  I  had  pained  him.  He  aston- 
ished me  all  the  more  when  he  dropped  down  beside 
me  and  after  gazing  sullenly  at  the  river  for  a  minute, 
cried : 

"I  would  kill  him  for  that." 

"Tut !  tut !"  I  said.    "What  interest  have  you  there?" 

"Don't  I  know  the  man?"  he  asked  angrily. 

"To  be  sure,"  I  answered  simply.  "But  the  young 
lady?  She  may  prefer  to  manage  her  own  affairs." 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  DOUBT 

"That's  so,"  he  said.  Then  he  laughed  and  cried: 
"Oh,  come!  Let's  get  the  canoe  out  and  work  up 
stream  a  mile  or  two.  It's  good  for  the  appetite- 
healthier  than  floating  easily  with  the  tide.  Tra-la-la! 
tra-la-la !  Come  on,  Alex !  We  have  lots  of  time  be- 
fore dinner." 

There  had  been  no  wedding  journey.  The  country 
was  too  disturbed  for  it.  Ralph  and  Helen  decided  to . 
remain  quietly  at  the  Manse  for  a  time — a  resolution 
that  greatly  pleased  the  parents.  Mrs.  Heathcote  and 
myself  were  pressed  very  kindly  to  make  a  long  visit, 
and  the  Aunt  agreed,  on  condition  that  the  couple  re- 
turned to  New  York  when  she  went. 

"I  haven't  seen  Albany  since  I  was  a  young  girl," 
she  said.  "I  would  like  to  renew  old  impressions,  if 
that  is  possible.  Mr.  Heathcote  and  I  made  the  jour- 
ney shortly  after  our  marriage,  and,  Helen,  dear,  it 
would  please  me  greatly  to  reverse  the  trip  for  you  and 
my  boy." 

When  Helen  demurred,  alleging  the  inconvenience 
her  absence  would  cause  her  family  at  that  moment, 
the  old  lady  replied: 

"Your  duties  are  elsewhere,  my  dear.  Your  busi- 
ness is  to  keep  pace  with  your  husband.  Don't  forget, 
child,  how  closely  you  have  been  shut  up  in  this  farm 
world  of  yours.  You  need  to  broaden  your  views  and 
interests.  Remember  how  much  Ralph  has  seen.  Even 
with  you,  Helen,  clay  will  still  be  clay  for  him." 

Helen  repeated  to*  Ralph  what  Mrs.  Heathcote  had 
said. 


1/8  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Dear  old  Aunt,"  Ralph  said.  "She  has  a  very  fool- 
ish notion,  Helen,  about  me,  and  she  won't  forsake  it, 
argue  as  I  may." 

"I  wouldn't  wish  her  to  do  so,"  said  Helen  proudly. 
"I  like  her  all  the  more  because  she  sees  in  you " 

"Helen,  what?" 

"What  I  know." 

"You  dear,  good  girl!  But  don't  join  with  her  in 
what  she  says  about  'clay'  and  broader  'interests.'  We 
have  both  agreed,  haven't  we  that  the  world  is  what 
one  makes  it,  and  that  things  are  little  or  great  accord- 
ing to  the  spirit  in  which  we  touch  them?" 

When  Ralph  talked  in  this  way  Helen  was  delighted. 
She  was  immensely  happy  in  these  days  in  her  tranquil 
way.  As  she  had  said,  her  idea  of  marriage  was  duty 
— a  quiet,  pleasant  companionship,  full  of  mutual  in- 
terest centred  entirely  within  the  home.  In  fact,  the 
creation  of  the  home,  the  domiciling  somewhere  of  the 
domestic  virtues,  labors  and  peace  was,  with  her,  the 
chief  purpose  of  marriage.  The  personal  element 
figured  somewhere  in  the  plan  as  a  necessary  but  not 
a  dominant  feature.  Certainly  she  never  counted  upon 
any  irresponsible  moments  or  upon  moods  existing  for 
themselves  only. 

It  had  been  arranged  before  the  marriage  that  as 
soon  as  Ralph  had  straightened  out  his  affairs  with 
Hicks  a  new  house  should  be  built  on  the  Manse 
estate. 

"The  property  will  be  yours,  Helen,  some  day,"  said 
Scott,  "and  you  and  Ralph  might  just  as  well  enter 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  DOUBT  179 

into  possession  of  it  at  once.  Mother  and  I  have 
enough  for  our  wants.  Let  me  tell  you  this,  Helen, 
regarding  Ralph's  future — land  is  the  only  thing  that 
keeps  a  man  a  gentleman." 

Helen,  of  course,  wouldn't  agree  to  the  latter  bit  of 
aristocratic  philosophy,  but  she  had  argued  it  out  too 
often  with  her  father  to  care  to  repeat  the  conflict. 
She  wras  delighted  to  know  that  she  would  not  suffer 
any  change  of  scene,  and  that  her  new  life  with  Ralph 
would  be  in  the  main  a  continuation  of  the  old.  Ralph 
was  to  settle  down  by  her  side  as  a  helpmate.  He  was 
to  have  his  books,  guns  and  friends,  of  course,  and 
occasionally  their  lives  would  be  varied  by  journeys  to 
his  relations  and  to  hers. 

The  journey  to  New  York  with  Mrs.  Heathcote 
struck  her  as  perhaps  a  too  early  concession  to  the  least 
essential  part  of  the  programme,  but  she  was  not  arbi- 
trary where  her  own  wishes  were  concerned. 

Moreover,  it  so  happened  that,  though  it  was  origin- 
ally arranged  that  the  start  should  be  made  for  New 
York  at  the  beginning  of  November,  the  serious  news 
that  came  of  fighting  around  the  city,  particularly  at 
White  Plains,  caused  several  delays,  so  that  it  was  not 
until  the  middle  of  December,  when  the  first  snow  was 
whitening  the  ground,  that  the  journey  to  the  Heath- 
cote  House  in  King  street  was  begun. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
THE  POWER   OF  AN  AFFINITY. 

EVERY  one  knew  the  Heathcote  residence  on  King 
street.  It  was  built,  I  think,  in  1741,  at  the  time  of  the 
negro  troubles,  when  New  York  was  little  more  than  a 
village  in  size.  North  of  Wall  street  there  were  then 
very  few  buildings  except  country  houses  in  the  fields. 
When  Josiah  Benson  announced  his  intention  of  erect- 
ing for  himself  the  home  that  subsequently  came  into 
the  possession  of  Mr.  Heathcote,  his  enterprise  was 
regarded  as  a  trifle  distant  and  decidedly  eccentric. 
The  truth  was,  Benson  was  a  great  lover  of  flowers. 
As  he  had  made  money  out  of  government  contracts 
he  decided  to  indulge  himself  with  a  sort  of  semi-coun- 
try place  for  his  beloved  tulips  and  other  rarities,  where 
he  could  have  more  space  for  them  than  was  procur- 
able on  Broad  street.  He  built  his  new  house  with  the 
long  side  facing  the  road.  Columns  supported  the 
porch,  the  ceiling  of  which  was  made  by  the  jutting 
roof  of  the  main  building.  The  edifice  was  very  mas- 
sively constructed,  all  of  stone  except  the  shingled, 
double-angled  roof,  with  its  row  of  gabled  windows. 
The  chimneys  were  particularly  heavy,  one  in  the  cen- 
tre and  one  at  each  of  the  ends.  The  gardens  around 
were  elaborately  and  beautifully  planted,  and  every- 
body was  pleased  that  Mrs.  Heatheote  did  not  allow 
these  to  fall  into  the  slightest  neglect.  In  the  summer 


THE  POWER   OF  AN  AFFINITY  l8l 

time  the  grounds  were  ablaze  with  color.  Little  won- 
der the  place  was  known  to  everybody.  There  was 
nothing  more  beautiful  in  the  town  than  that  large 
house,  embowered  in  foliage  and  blossom. 

Fortunately  the  conflagration  of  September  follow- 
ing the  British  occupation  spared  this  happy  retreat  of 
so  much  loving  toil.  Nevertheless  it  was  upon  a  sad 
sight  of  destruction  and  desolation  that  Helen  gazed 
from  her  window  the  morning  after  her  arrival  in  town, 
A  broad  swath  of  black  ashes  ran  across  the  city  diag- 
onally. Trinity  Church  had  fallen  and  many  other 
notable  buildings.  Looking  across  Broadway  the  vista 
was  now  entirely  open.  Helen  could  see  the  river, 
covered  then  with  floating  ice,  the  long  line  of  war- 
ships and  transports  riding  at  anchor  in  the  harbor, 
and  behind  them  as  a  background  the  snowclad  hills 
of  Staten  Island.  The  streets  of  the  city  were  full  of 
military,  and  their  brilliant  uniforms  contrasted  with 
the  wintry  whiteness  of  the  highways.  But  for  the  sol- 
diers the  city  would  have  appeared  half  deserted. 

"Dear  me!  Dear  me!"  exclaimed  Aunt  Heathcote, 
as  she  took  Helen  for  a  walk  to  show  her  the  city. 
"What  a  change  since  I  left  a  month  or  two  ago !  How 
hideous,  stupid  and  criminal  these  troubles  are !  Don't 
you  think  so,  dear?  Or  are  you  of  your  father's  fierce 
opinion?" 

"I  don't  believe  in  bloodshed,  and  I  can't  entirely 
agree  with  father's  extreme  position.  I  must  confess, 
though,  that  more  than  once  it  has  stirred  my  blood 
to  see  those  Hessians  march  past.  Doesn't  it  yours?" 


1 82  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Not  a  bit,"  the  old  Tory  replied,  quickly.  "Fight- 
ing is  fighting,  and  some  men  are  better  employed  at 
that  than  at  anything  else." 

The  early  days  of  that  visit  passed  calmly  and  pleas- 
antly. There  was  so  much  to  show  Helen,  and  Ralph 
delighted  in  taking  her  around. 

Mrs.  Heathcote  accepted  Helen,  but  she  did  not  wel- 
come her  with  the  heart.  The  old  lady's  feelings  were 
obstinate  in  all  matters,  and  I  regarded  the  result  that 
Helen  obtained  any  foothold,  in  the  face  of  the  fact 
that  she  was  esteemed  an  intruder  and  usurper,  as  a 
very  high  proof  of  the  strength  of  her  good  qualities. 
Here,  too,  she  conquered  by  a  serenity  which  made  her 
oblivious  to  petty  feelings  and  by  a  working  kindness 
and  persistent  amiability  that  nothing  disturbed.  Old 
age,  I  fancy,  is  a  trifle  vainer  and  sillier  than  youth. 
Certainly  it  is  more  selfish,  perhaps  because  it  can  less 
afford  to  be  prodigal.  However  that  may  be,  it  is  very 
approachable  through  its  egotisms  and  its  comforts. 
Helen's  natural  deference  to  age  and  her  ready  ser- 
viceableness  quickly  appealed  to  Mrs.  Heathcote,  who 
admitted  the  enemy  into  her  camp  by  confessing  to 
herself,  "that  the  girl  has  really  some  very  nice  quali- 
ties," and  surrendered  so  far  as  surrender  was  possible, 
when  a  few  weeks  later  she  found  herself  one  after- 
noon in  the  parlor  unpremeditately  comparing  Helen 
with  Catrina,  with  a  result  not  as  conclusive  as  she 
desired. 

"Dear,  dear,"  she  sighed,  dropping  her  sewing. 
"This  world  is  terribly  mixed!" 


THE  POWER  OF  AN  AFFINITY  183 

"What  makes  you  say  that,  Mrs.  Heathcote?"  asked 
Helen. 

"Do  stop  calling  me  Mrs.  Heathcote,"  commanded 
the  old  4ady  petulantly.  "I'm  Ralph's  aunt  and  I  sup- 
pose I'm  yours,  my  dear." 

The  softened  cadence  of  the  speech  conveyed  the 
real  meaning  of  the  speaker. 

Helen  rose  and  kissed  the  old  lady. 

"There,  there,  dear.  You  really  are  a  very  lovable 
girl,  if  only " 

"If  only  what?"  asked  Helen. 

"Oh,  if  only  an  old  woman  was  not  an  old  fool.  Well, 
well,  I  have  two  nieces  by  adoption  and  I  ought  to  be 
very  content." 

"Two  of  us!"  cried  Helen.  "I  never  heard  of  the 
other  one,  Auntie." 

"I  suppose  not,  I  suppose  not,"  she  sighed.  Then  to 
Helen's  astonishment  she  burst  forth:  "Oh,  how  my 
soul  yearns  for  her  to  comfort  her!  I  know  it!  I 
know  it !  It  is  she  that  will  suffer — my  darling." 

Helen  was  trying  to  comfort  the  sobbing  old  lady 
(to  whose  emotion,  of  course,  Helen  had  no  clue), 
when  there  came  a  knock  on  the  outer  door,  followed 
by  the  sound  of  Hicks's  voice  in  the  hallway. 

Helen  hastened  upstairs  to  warn  Ralph. 

"Hicks,  eh?     Give  me  my  coat." 

"Ralph,  do  be  prudent.  Probably  he  is  only  mak- 
ing a  ceremonial  call  on  your  aunt.  Hadn't  you  better 
let  him  alone?" 

"Let  him  alone!     Helen,  dear,  my  mind  has  long 


1 84  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

been  made  up  to  this.  I  must  see  that  man  sometime 
soon,  and  I  desire  to  meet  him  in  the  most  natural  way 
possible.  You  needn't  fear  a  scene.  Whatever  goes 
on  shall  go  on  behind  the  curtain.  Aunt  knows  noth- 
ing of  his  infamy,  and  he  shall  think  that  I  know  as 
little." 

"Shall  I  come  down,  too,  dear,  when  I  get  this  ob- 
stinate hair  of  mine  fixed?" 

"To  meet  him — that  villain!" 

"He  won't  poison  me.     I  would  like  to  see  him." 

"Oh,  well,  do  as  you  please.  As  you  say,  he  won't 
poison  you." 

Entering  the  low-ceiled  parlor,  where  a  great  wood 
fire  was  burning,  Ralph  heard  Hicks's  rich,  insinuating 
voice : 

"I  had  no  idea  you  were  out  of  town  until  lately — 
and  on  such  a  mission,  too.  Ah!  I  am  surrounded 
with  surprises.  Why,  here  is  the  rascal  himself!" 

Hicks  rose  suddenly.  His  face  visibly  lost 'some- 
thing of  its  color,  but  his  sharp  eyes  nothing  of  their 
steady  directness. 

In  a  second  he  recognized  Ralph  was  peaceful,  and 
then  both  his  lace-berufHed  hands  were  extended  in 
welcome.  Ralph  gave  him  his  two  hands,  and  thus 
for  a  moment,  clasped  in  that  friendly  way,  the  two 
men  searched  one  another. 

"My  dear  Ralph,"  said  Hicks,  softly,  "I  can't  tell 
you  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  under  such  circum- 
stances." 

"I  am  sure  of  it,"  said  Ralph.     "I  knew  you,  of  all 


THE  POWER  OF  AN  AFFINITY  185 

my  friends,  would  be  the  most  concerned  in  my  wel- 
fare." 

"But  why,  why,  my  dear  boy,  did  you  not  let  me 
know?-  Mated  and  married,  and  not  a  word  to  me! 
Me!" 

Hicks  extended  his  arms  as  though  his  heart  were 
visible. 

"Then  really  did  my  first  letter  to  you  go  astray?" 
asked  Ralph  innocently." 

"I  assure  you,"  said  Hicks.  "Candidly,  I  received 
not  even  so  much  as  a  whisper.  What  must  you  have 
thought  of  me?" 

"Don't  fear.  I  never  for  a  moment  doubted — your 
interest  in  me." 

"Ah!  That  was  generous,  I  confess,  under  such 
circumstances." 

"Haven't  I  too  many  proofs  of  your  friendship!" 
said  Ralph,  enthusiastically.  "As  I  didn't  hear  from 
you,  I  concluded  something — there  is  so  easily  some- 
thing— had  obstructed  your  plans.  Something  official 
or  imperative,"  he  added. 

"Yes !  Yes !"  said  Hicks.  "No  doubt  I  missed  your 
letter  somehow,  due  to  the  commotion  of  the  last  few 
months,  and  my  own  movements — not  necessarily  too 
open,  Ralph.  You  understand?" 

"Oh,  yes,  indeed!"  said  Ralph  laughing.  "In 
dealing  with  an  enemy  we  have  to  use  subterfuge 
(what  do  you  lawyers  call  it?  'trick  and  device/  eh?)  to 
snick  him  in  the  back!  The  Indians  are  pretty  good 
at  that." 


1 86  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

The  thrust  went  home.  Hicks  tried  to  dodge  it. 
For  the  first  time  he  showed  a  faint  nervousness. 

"Yes,  Indians — yes — yes,"  he  said,  laughing  un- 
easily. Then  he  caught  himself,  and  went  on  very 
seriously.  "That  reminds  me,  Ralph,  of  your  letter — 
the  one  I  did  receive.  Do  you  know  that  nearly 
knocked  me  down?" 

"I  expected  it  would,"  said  Ralph,  humorously. 
"Didn't  it  surprise  you?" 

"That  isn't  the  word  for  it,  said  Hicks  tittering. 

"I  am  sure  it  isn't,"  smiled  Ralph. 

For  a  moment  the  two  men  sat  laughing  together. 
Then  Hicks  demanded  in  a  most  earnest  manner  as 
though  the  speculation  puzzled  him  deeply: 

"But  what  did  Johnson  mean  by  his  outrage?" 

"Never  could  find  out,"  answered  Ralph  nonchal- 
antly. "Except  one  day  he  dropped  a  hint." 

"A  hint,  eh?    Umph!    Did  it  clear  the  matter?" 

"On  the  contrary,  if  I  may  say  so,  it  darkened  it. 
He  said  he  had  been  ordered  to  restrain  me  by  an 
enemy  I  had — one  in  authority." 

The  lids  of  Hicks's  eyes  half  closed.  Ralph  fancied 
he  could  hear  the  older  man's  heart  beat.  For  a  mo- 
ment Ralph  wondered  how  Hicks  would  emerge. 

Slowly  his  eyes  opened.  Unflinchingly  he  met 
Ralph's  gaze. 

"An  en — emy,  Ralph — of  yours?  Some  one  in  au- 
thority? Was  it  a  riddle?" 

"It  was  to  me,"  said  Ralph  promptly,  "but  I  am  sure 
Johnson  had  the  key  to  it." 


THE  POWER  OF  AN  AFFINITY  187 

"Come,  come,"  said  Hicks  in  a  sprightly  tone. 
"Johnson  was  fooling  you." 

"Oh,  no!  No!  no!  There  was  no  joking  in  those 
woods.  If  it  was,  it  is  a  joke  the  perpetrator  is  abso- 
lutely certain  to  pay  the  price  for  some  day.  It's  a 
queer  account  that  never  comes  to  a  settlement. 

"Indeed,  my  boy,  yes.  I  am  mystified  beyond  words. 
I  wish  I  could  help  you  to  clear  up  the  matter." 

"Do  you  know  my  thoughts  went  immediately  to 
you?" 

"Me!"  cried  Hicks  in  alarm. 

"Yes,"  said  Ralph,  "I  knew  I  could  count  on  your 
assistance." 

Hicks  laughed. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  see.     Why,  of  course." 

"Why,"  exclaimed  Ralph  laughing,  "my  dear  friend, 
you  did  not  think  I  meant " 

Again  the  two  men  laughed  together. 

"My  idea  was,"  continued  Ralph,  "you  might  in- 
duce Sir  Johnson  to  reveal  his  motive  to  you.  You 
know  him  so  well. 

"Slightly,  slightly,  Ralph.  I  shall  surely  write  to 
him  the  first  opportunity  I  have." 

"You  are  very  good,"  said  Ralph. 

"No  thanks  for  so  small  a  matter,  my  boy." 

"I  shan't  take  it  as  a  small  matter  if  you  will  do  it  for 
me.  You  can  appreciate  how  deeply  I  feel  on  the  sub- 
ject." 

"Not  another  word,  Ralph.  You  know  you  may 
count  on  me." 


1 88  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  know  I  can,"  said  Ralph.  "For  the  present,  then, 
we  will  drop  the  matter;  but  do  tell  me  this :  What  were 
the  rumors  you  heard  about — Catrina?" 

Mrs.  Heathcote  had  listened  to  the  dialogue  hith- 
erto without  a  word.  At  the  mention  of  Catrina's 
name  she  roused  herself  in  her  armchair. 

"Rumors  concerning  Catrina!"  she  exclaimed  in 
amazement. 

"You  mustn't  think,  dear  Aunt,  that  Virginia  is  as 
distant  as  the  New  York  forests.  Mr.  Hicks  has  heard 
some  startling  whispers.  Surely  you  received  the 
news.  Catrina  is  to  be  married." 

"Catrina  to  be  married !"  cried  the  old  lady.  "Ralph 
Tennant,  what  delusion  is  this!  All  this  time  have 
you .  Oh,  speak!  Who  has  said  this?" 

It  gave  Ralph  the  utmost  pleasure  to  witness  how 
disconcerted  the  imperturbable  Hicks  was  by  this  sud- 
den change  of  the  attack. 

"Mr.  Hicks  kindly  sent  me  the  news,  probably  to 
surprise  me,  but  I  had  no  idea  it  would  surprise  you, 
dear  Aunt." 

"Where  did  you  hear  this  nonsense,  Mr.  Hicks?" 
demanded  the  old  lady  imperiously. 

Hicks  had  partly  recovered  his  self-possession,  but 
he  failed  painfully  as  he  exclaimed : 

"Some  of  our  young  officers — I  forget  now  who — 
mentioned  it  casually — and  with  many  doubts  and 
qualifications.  He  thought  he  had  met  Miss  Ruther- 
ford, and  a  gentleman  had  been  pointed  out  to  him  as 
her  fiance.  It  may  not  be  so.  A  mere  mistake." 


THE  POWER   OF  AN  AFFINITY  189 

"A  mistake!"  echoed  Mrs.  Heathcote,  nearly  beside 
herself  with  anger.  "A  crime !  I  am  surprised,  Mr. 
Hicks,  that  you  should  allow  such  stories  to  go  un- 
punished, much  less  to  spread  them  yourself." 

"I  did  but  write  it  to  Ralph,"  he  pleaded. 

"It  has  done  no  harm,  my  dear  Aunt,"  said  Ralph — 
"Ah!  Helen — my  wife  has  been  very  anxious  to  meet 
my  father's  friend." 

Hicks  no  doubt  was  very  thankful  for  the  interrup- 
tion. He  greeted  Helen  with  great  warmth.  Though 
she  was  awkward  and  silent  in  his  presence,  he  main- 
tained a  steady  fire  of  courtly  nonsense.  She  had 
stolen  his  ward  from  him.  Such  conspiracies  were 
possible  in  those  distant  backwoods.  He  was  delighted 
to  see,  too,  that  Ralph's  eye  was  as  true  as  his  heart. 
Then  he  abruptly  terminated  his  visit  by  rising  and 
inviting  Mrs.  Heathcote,  Helen  and  Ralph  to  a  ball 
which  \vas  to  be  given  shortly  by  Lord  Howe  and  some 
others  of  the  chief  commanding  officers. 

Ralph  persisted  in  playing  his  game  with  Hicks  until 
at  last  I  believe  he  came  to  enjoy  it.  He  was  a  con- 
stant visitor  at  the  Fort  just  as  Hicks  was  a  regular 
visitor  at  Mrs.  Heathcote's.  My  plan,  for  so  I  dare 
speak  of  the  method  of  dealing  with  Hicks,  succeeded 
so  well  that  Ralph  received  a  goodly  sum  of  money 
which  I  am  sure  he  would  never  have  touched  had  he 
essayed  the  violent.  He  was  no  doubt  favored  by  the 
fact  that  Hicks  had  won  largely  at  cards,  and  I  am  sure 
made  heavy  profits  out  of  a  connection  he  had  formed 
with  Cunningham,  the  provost  marshal.  I  had  no 


THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 


idea  Ralph  could  be  so  astute.  Really,  I  think  he 
pulled  the  wool  completely  over  the  old  fox's  eyes. 
Perhaps  this  was  due  to  the  fact  that  he  dropped  en- 
tirely the  subject  of  Johnson  and  those  northern 
events. 

Ralph  visited  me  often,  and  I  rejoiced  again  in  our 
companionship  which  now  became  very  steady;  but 
the  more  I  saw  of  my  friend,  the  more  I  detected  or 
thought  I  detected  a  certain  —  I  won't  say  a  false  note, 
but  a  certain  falseness  of  pitch.  There  was  a  strain 
somewhere,  which  resulted  in  frequent  forced  gayety, 
succeeded  by  hours  of  black  dejection. 

With  Helen,  and  of  course  I  saw  much  of  her,  he  was 
invariably  thoughtful  and  kind,  but  it  struck  me  —  dare 
I  say  it?  —  there  was  a  very  little  bit  of  earnest  acting 
in  it. 

The  change  of  scene,  the  new  life,  the  impressive 
company  with  which  Mrs.  Heathcote  filled  her  house, 
were  all  very  agreeable  to  Helen.  She  told  me  it 
pleased  her  more  than  she  anticipated. 

"But  it  is  such  a  useless  life,"  she  complained,  as 
though  the  complaint  justified  her  in  sharing  it. 

To  Ralph  the  life  was  intolerable. 

"But  what  to  do,  Alex!"  he  exclaimed  hopelessly. 
"Helen  is  becoming  more  Whiggish  every  day,  until 
now  she  is  an  inveterate  enemy  of  the  government. 
And  I,  well,  I  am  more  indifferent  than  ever.  Do  you 
know,  if  it  wasn't  for  Helen  I  believe  I'd  clear  out  of 
the  country  somehow.  I  wish  one  of  those  vessels 
that  arrived  in  the  bay  this  morning  would  take  me  off. 


THE  POWER  OF  AN  AFFINITY  IQI 

As  I  watched  them  come  to  anchor  and  furl  their  sails 
they  seemed  positively  to  call  me.  The  best  step  I 
suppose  is  to  go  back  to  the  Manse." 

"You  couldn't  do  better,  Ralph,"  I  hinted. 

"I  know,"  he  sighed;  "Alex,  the  devil  of  unrest  is  in 
me." 

"Exorcise  him !"  I  said. 

"With  what  charm,  oh!  magician?" 

"Hard  work  is  a  good  medicine." 

"Aching  sinews,  eh?    Well,  that  would  be  better." 

When  he  was  in  these  moods  he  would  sit  sometimes 
for  hours  with  an  open  book  on  his  knees  in  a  deep 
chair  in  a  corner  of  the  Heathcote  parlor.  There  he 
esconced  himself  after  he  left  me  that  afternoon. 

The  ladies  were  busy  upstairs.  The  fire  crackled 
and  as  the  winter  day  died  its  early  death,  the  glow  of 
the  embers  crept  further  and  further  out  into  the  dark- 
ening room.  The  house  was  very  still.  The  snow 
deadened  the  sounds  outside  in  the  street.  The  low 
croning  of  old  Dinah,  the  negress,  in  the  kitchen, 
exactly  harmonized  with  the  vague,  half-formulated 
thoughts  that  were  floating  in  Ralph's  head. 

No  doubt  he  heard  the  knocking  on  the  outer  door, 
but  he  paid  no  heed  to  it.  He  was  half  lost  until 
the  servant  opened  the  parlor  door  and  he  was  aroused 
by  hearing : 

"Step  in,  if  you  please.     I  will  tell  Mrs.  Heathcote." 

That  moment  was  the  last  of  the  twilight.  But  for 
the  pine  logs  the  furniture  would  have  been  merely 
so  many  shadowy  outlines. 


1 92  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Ralph  pulled  himself  together  and  advanced  from 
the  darkness  of  his  corner,  intending  to  pass  upstairs. 
When  he  reached  the  centre  table  the  stranger,  too, 
advanced  and  stood  within  the  halo  of  the  hearth. 

His  own  name  was  uttered  with  a  cry  that  thrilled 
him.  No  other  voice  in  all  the  world  could  have  so 
thrilled  him.  Never  before  had  he  recognized  its 
power.  Now  there  was  something  exultant  in  its  sum- 
mons. 

"Ralph!" 

"Catrina!" 

Fear  and  joy  throbbed  within  him. 

He  seized  her  hand. 

"You!   You!  he  said.     "Catrina!" 

The  semi-darkness  was  kind  to  the  girl.  She  stood 
struggling  wildly  for  words.  Half  choking  with  hap- 
piness, half  in  tears,  she  faltered : 

"I  could  stand  it  no  longer — Ralph.  I  had  to  come 
— and — and  I  brought  you  back  your  mother's  ring." 

Saying  this  she  tore  her  glove  from  her  hand  and  be- 
seechingly held  out  the  jewel  to  him. 

While  Catrina  and  Ralph  were  standing  thus  the  ser- 
vant came  in  with  the  candles.  At  precisely  the  same 
moment,  at  the  other  door  behind  Ralph,  Helen  en- 
tered. 

The  visitor  had  not  given  her  name  and  Helen  had 
come  down  in  the  place  of  the  lady  of  the  house. 

Helen  looked  at  the  stranger,  then  at  her  husband. 
Then  she  heard  Ralph  struggle  to  say: 

"Catrina — allow  me — my  wife." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
THE  MEETING  OF  THE  CROSS  CURRENTS. 

I  HESITATE  to  set  down  anything  further  regarding 
that  unexpected  scene  in  the  Heathcote  parlor.  In 
that  episode  the  waters  of  many  cross-currents  met. 

Deeply  as  I  am  interested  in  all  the  persons  con- 
cerned, I  must  confess  to  a  feeling  particularly  acute 
for  the  hard  thrust  of  circumstances  against  Catrina. 
That  moment,  with  its  few  sudden  words,  was  to  her 
like  a  revelation  flashed  in  a  thunderstorm.  Were  I 
to  say  that  until  then  she  was  unconscious  of  her  love 
for  Ralph  I  would  quite  misstate  the  case.  Certainly 
I  am  entitled  to  believe  that  her  affection  so  far  had 
had  curiously  little  in  it  of  the  self-conscious.  It  was 
indeed  almost  something  instinctive.  The  long  famil- 
iar association  assisted  in  obscuring  a  sentiment  that 
had  developed  with  the  unobtrusiveness  of  a  natural 
process.  Catrina's  love  for  Ralph  was  the  blossom- 
ing of  her  own  life.  The  sympathy  of  those  earlier  days 
was  but  the  first  stage  of  that  love  which  declared  it- 
self in  a  cry  at  the  moment  of  which  I  am  now  writing. 
The  poor  girl  had  been  driven  to  return  to  New  York 
by  an  unbearable  loneliness  and  sense  of  want.  The 
unexpected  meeting  with  Ralph  in  the  parlor  forced 
from  her  that  excuse  of  an  overladen  heart — the  fal- 
tering reference  to  the  parting  in  the  orchard.  She  had 
recalled  that  scene  frequently  when  away,  and  the  more 
she  studied  it  its  outlines  gained  in  vividness  as  its  sig- 


194  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

nificance  became  more  tantalizingly  dubious.  Did 
Ralph  love  her? 

Something  blacker  than  the  evening  darkness  was 
before  her  eyes  as  she  said  to  Helen : 

"Thank  you;  let  me  go  up  alone,  please.  I  can  find 
my  way." 

Mrs.  Heathcote's  door  was  open.  With  a  cry  she 
threw  her  arms  around  the  astonished  old  lady,  who 
could  say  nothing  but  mutter: 

"My  darling  girl! — Catrina!     Catrina!" 

Pressed  closely  to  her,  the  girl  sobbed  mutely. 

"Darling,  what  does  this  mean?"  Mrs.  Heathcote 
whispered  in  her  ear. 

"I  was  so  lonely.     I  want — wanted  to  see — you?" 

The  light  of  the  candle  fell  upon  Catrina's  blanched 
face.  The  look  in  her  eyes  alarmed  Mrs.  Heathcote. 

"Catrina,  you  are  in  pain.    What  is  the  matter?" 

"Nothing — nothing  now.     I  am  only  a  little  tired." 

The  girl  pressed  closer  to  the  old  lady,  and  for  a  hid- 
ing place  rested  her  head  on  Mrs.  Heathcote's  bosom. 

"My  darling,  why  didn't  you  write?  Why  didn't  you 
let  us  know  you  were  coming?  Why  didn't  you " 

"I  did  write,"  murmured  Catrina. 

"You  did?  When?  After  you  received  my  letter 
about  Ralph?" 

"I  have  received  no  letter." 

"No  letter,  Catrina?    Yet — you — know!" 

"Yes.    Now!" 

The  sadness  of  this  affirmative  caused  the  old  lady 
to  silently  stroke  the  girl's  hair. 


THE  MEETING  OF  THE  CROSS  CURRENTS  IQ5 

"Yes,"  she  repeated,  "my  poor  child." 

The  tone  of  pity  irritated  Catrina. 

"Don't  Auntie,  dear;  don't,  please  don't.  I  am  only 
tired — a  little." 

Catrina  suddenly  made  herself  busy  taking  off  her 
wraps.  Mrs.  Heathcote  watched  her. 

"Wouldn't  you  like  to  go  to  bed,  dear,  and  rest?" 
asked  Mrs.  Heathcote,  tenderly.  She  was  seeking 
some  action  to  relieve  the  situation. 

"No,"  answered  Catrina  promptly.  "I  shall  be  all 
right  in  a  little  while — really.  Why !  I  haven't  asked 
how  you  are,  Auntie." 

Mrs.  Heathcote  paid  no  attention  to  this  inquiry. 
She  remained  silent,  deeply  occupied  with  her 
thoughts. 

"You  met  Ralph  down  stairs?"  she  asked  presently. 

Catrina  turned  away  as  she  replied. 

"Yes." 

"And— Helen?" 

"Yes!  Yes!  Auntie,  dear,  please  don't  trouble 
^bout  me." 

"Come  to  me,  Catrina.  There!  You  knew,  my 
child,  you  can't  fool  your  old  Auntie." 

"Don't!  Don't!  Everything  is  all  right.  I  am  so 
happy,  now  I  am  with  you." 

Mrs.  Heathcote  kissed  the  pleading,  uplifted  face. 

"Others  can't  have  loved  you  as  I  do,"  she  said. 

"No  one  loves  me,  Auntie,  but  you." 

The  tears  nearly  forced  their  way  to  Catrina's  eyes 
as  she  said  this. 


196  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  am  afraid  that  is  so,"  said  the  old  lady  dolefully. 
"We  must  fight  it  out  together,  Catrina." 
"Oh,  Auntie !    That's  just  it,"  cried  the  girl,  eagerly. 

"I  understand,"  said  Mrs.  Heathcote,  significantly. 
"You  think  you  won't  falter?" 

"Oh,  dear,  no.  Why  should  I?"  asked  Catrina,  smil- 
ing sadly. 

"Because  the  heart  is  a  great  tyrant,  child.  Ah! 
Catrina,"  continued  Mrs.  Heathcote,  shaking  her  head, 
"this  is — but,  there  is  the  supper.  You  had  better  not 


"No,  no.  Let  us  go  down,"  said  Catrina,  rising. 
"With  your  house  so  full  will  I  be  in  the  way?" 

"Catrina,  dear,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Heathcote,  "re- 
member this  is  your  home,  just  as  it  was  Ralph's  until 


"And  still  is  his,  now  more  than  ever,"  Catrina  whis- 
pered affectionately,  as  the  two  descended  the  stairs, 
with  their  arms  around  one  another. 

The  meeting  in  the  parlor  had  thrown  Ralph  into  a 
sad  state  of  perplexity.  Contradictory  thoughts  and 
feelings  surged  and  clashed  within  him.  He  felt  he 
was  not  master  of  himself.  He  struggled  to  speak 
naturally  to  Helen  after  Catrina  had  gone  upstairs  to 
his  aunt,  but  he  made  such  a  hopeless  failure  of  the  in- 
different that  he  was  forced  to  take  refuge  in  the  ex- 
cuse that  he  had  not  been  feeling  well  that  afternoon. 

"This  surprise  nearly  upsets  me  altogether,"  he  said. 
"It  is  like  being  suddenly  confronted  by  someone  from 
the  grave.  You  know,  Helen,  Catrina  and  I  have  been 


THE  MEETING  OF  THE  CROSS  CURRENTS  197 

friends  since  we  were  four  years  old.  Quite  lost  sight 
of  her  lately.  Last  thing  I  heard  she  was  engaged  to 
some  one  in  Virginia.  I  suppose  that  was  only  a  ru- 
mor. She  is  a  very  pleasant  girl.  You'll  get  on  splen- 
didly with  her." 

Helen  did  not  quite  understand.  Possessing  no  clue 
to  the  actual  condition  of  affairs,  she  turned  to  the  ob- 
vious and  concluded  that  Ralph  was  not  very  well,  as 
he  had  said. 

At  the  supper  table  Helen  was  greatly  impressed  by 
Catrina's  quiet  beauty  and  winsomeness.  She  did  not 
fail  to  perceive  that  the  girl  was  deeply  disturbed  by 
something,  but  of  this  Mrs.  Heathcote's  explanation 
seemed  sufficient: 

"Catrina  is  almost  exhausted  by  her  voyage,  but  she 
insisted  on  joining  us  to-night." 

"There's  plenty  of  time  for  rest,  Auntie.  I  want  to 
see  you  all.  Dear  me,  isn't  this  homelike  after  Vir- 
ginia!" 

"You  didn't  enjoy  yourself?"  asked  Ralph,  trying  to 
appear  indifferent. 

"Everybody  was  very  kind,"  said  Catrina,  meeting 
Ralph's  gaze  with  self-possession  that  outwardly  was 
perfect,  "but  it  was  all  so  strange.  Strange  faces, 
strange  scenes,  strange  voices — 

"By  heaven's  that's  it,"  cried  Ralph.  "There's 
something  a  trifle  strange  in  your  tone,  Catrina.  Don't 
you  think  so,  Auntie?" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  old  lady,  dryly.  "I  would  not  be 
surprised." 


198  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Do  you  know,  Catrina,  we  heard  you  were  going  to 
settle  down  there,"  said  Ralph. 

Catrina  turned  to  her  aunt. 

"My  dear,  Ralph  is  only  repeating  a  foolish  tale 
Mr.  Hicks  invented  that  you  were — well — about  to  be 
married.  Absurd !" 

"Oh!"  said  Catrina,  thoughtfully.  Then  she  added 
quickly:  "I  had  a  good  example,  Ralph,  didn't  I?" 

Catrina  said  this  with  a  sense  of  triumph  in  herself. 
It  struck  Ralph  like  something  cold.  It  seemed  to  half 
empty  his  heart.  He  looked  blankly  across  the  table 
i  s  he  said : 

"The  very  best,  Catrina.  Usually  I'm  a  poor  light 
for  any  to  follow." 

Helen  was  sitting  beside  him.  He  placed  his  hand  on 
her  lap  under  the  table.  It  was  an  act  close  upon  de- 
spair. Catrina  noticed  it.  She  felt  it  like  the  prick  of 
cold  steel.  It  pained  her,  at  the  same  time  it  touched 
the  very  quick  of  a  hopeless  pride. 

"How  utterly  foolish  I  am !"  thought  Catrina. 

"Exactly  as  I  half  expected,"  were  the  words  that 
shaped  themselves  in  Ralph's  brain. 

Both  settled  down  resolutely  to  the  commonplace, 
and  the  rest  of  the  meal  was  passed  in  talk  about  Ca- 
trina's  journey  and  the  events  that  had  happened  in 
New  York  since  her  departure. 

After  supper,  as  the  four  passed  into  the  parlor,  Ca- 
trina put  her  arm  around  Helen.  Detaining  her  for  a 
moment  she  whispered: 

"I  am  a  late  comer,  but  may  I  wish  you  happiness. 


THE  MEETING  OF  THE  CROSS  CURRENTS  199 

Helen?  May  I  kiss  you?  Ralph  and  I  are  such  old 
friends." 

Helen  was  delighted. 

"Let  .me  join  the  old  friendship,"  she  said.  "Don't 
count  me  as  anything  new." 

"How  can  you  be  'new,'  "  asked  Catrina,  smiling; 
"when  Ralph  was  waiting  for  you  all  those  years." 

Ralph  overheard  a  part  of  this  conversation  and  he 
resented  it,  he  knew  not  why. 

After  a  while  he  excused  himself  and  later  strolled 
into  my  room.  I  could  see  something  was  amiss,  but 
I  asked  no  questions.  At  last  he  said  suddenly : 

"I  told  you  about  those  ships  this  afternoon?" 

"What  ships?"  I  asked,  clean  forgetting  what  he  had 
said. 

"Oh!"  he  replied  hastily,  "the  ships  I  saw  come  to 
anchor  this  morning.  Didn't  I  tell  you  they  seemed  to 
do  more  than  catch  my  eye?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  I  said;  "I  remember.  They  appealed  to 
your  sense  for  the  blue." 

"Don't  joke,"  he  said,  studying  the  floor.  "Catrina 
was  aboard." 

"Catrina!"  I  exclaimed,  verily  surprised. 

"She  arrived  at  Aunt's  this  evening." 

"Gracious !  what  a  surprise !" 

"It  was,"  said  he  slowly. 

"Is  she  well?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  very,"  he  replied  laconically. 

"You  say  it  as  though  you  were  disappointed,"  I 
said  laughing. 


2OO  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Disappointed,"  he  replied.  "Why!  No!  Why 
should  I  be?  What  nonsense !" 

Then  to  rally  him,  I  went  on : 

"Still  nonsense  and  the  best  of  women  go  well  to- 
gether at  times." 

"Don't  talk  to  me  of  women,"  he  exclaimed  bitterly. 
"I  believe  I  hate  them  all." 

"Lord,  every  man  says  that  at  some  time,  Ralph,  but 
nobody  means  it,"  I  said.  "No  man  ever  really  hated  a 
woman — unless,"  I  added,  "that  hate  was  born  of  an- 
other woman." 

"Nonsense !"  he  cried. 

He  was  evidently  in  so  poor  a  mood  I  thought  it 
best  to  say: 

"Nonsense!  Of  course,  it  is  all  nonsense.  That's 
what  I  told  you  at  the  beginning." 

"I  am  going  back  to  the  Manse,  Alex." 

"Good,"  I  cried.     "When?" 

"Don't  know  yet,"  he  said.     "Soon.     Perhaps 

"Ralph,  leave  the  calendar  alone  for  the  present.  It 
will  be  a  good  thing  to  discuss  by  and  by.  Come  with 
me  now  for  a  stroll.  I  am  stuffy  for  a  little  exercise." 

We  made  a  call  at  the  Fort  and  spent  an  hour  or 
more  with  Lord  Percy  and  my  friend  Sir  Frederick 
Chalmers.  I  enjoyed  the  evening  hugely,  but  I  fear  it 
was  spoiled  for  Ralph  when  he  learned  on  returning 
home  that  Whitehead  Hicks  had  made  a  long  visit  to 
welcome  Catrina. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
COMING  TO  CLOSE  QUARTERS. 

AFTER  this  Ralph  spent  more  of  his  time  with  me  than 
ever.  He  rarely  spoke  to  me  of  Catrina  or  of  anything 
that  happened  in  the  Heathcote  household.  Indeed,  he 
showed  a  strange  apathy  regarding  all  events,  public 
or  private.  His  only  desire  was  to  settle  his  affairs 
with  Hicks,  but  obviously  he  avoided  the  man.  He 
harped  repeatedly  on  his  determination  to  get  back  to 
the  Manse,  but  he  took  no  steps  to  this  end  as  the 
weeks  slipped  by  and  winter  gave  place  to  spring. 

I  never  could  get  any  account  of  these  weeks.  All 
I  know  is  Hicks  was  a  constant  visitor  at  Mrs.  Heath- 
cote's,  and  Ralph  absented  himself  from  the  house,  as 
though  it  had  become  distasteful  to  him.  He  was  most 
willing  to  go  anywhere  with  me,  and,  seeing  he  found 
greater  pleasure  than  ever  in  our  companionship,  I 
took  every  occasion  to  distract  him. 

One  night,  I  remember,  I  took  him  with  me  to  Mr. 
Liddle's.  It  was  the  end  of  March.  Mr.  Liddle's,  it 
will  be  remembered,  was  perhaps  the  gayest  house  in 
New  York  during  the  British  occupation  of  the  city. 
He  was  wealthy  and  he  was  English.  He  was  a  man 
with  nothing  beyond  the  barest  scholastic  education, 
but,  as  though  this  deficiency  left  room  for  other  mat- 
ters, he  was  filled  to  overflowing  with  the  trader's  wis- 
dom. He  seemed  to  exude  it  in  his  manners,  his  clothes, 
the  knowing  brightness  of  his  eyes,  his  coarse  assur- 


2O2  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

ance.  His  nationality  was  intolerably  loud,  and  when 
the  British  troops  were  again  masters  of  Manhattan 
his  inbilation  was  boisterous.  He  pushed  himself  upon 
the  English  officers  and  officials,  and  I  doubt  not  they 
must  have  been  greatly  amused  by  the  sycophancy  of 
his  forced  familiarity.  He  invited  them  to  his  house, 
threw  it  wide  open  to  them,  and  the  superfluity  at  his 
entertainments  appeared  like  an  offset  offered  for  his 
personal  defects. 

Away  from  home,  engaged  in  an  arduous  campaign, 
his  guests  accepted  him  as  an  amusing  incident  of  the 
war.  They  shared  his  hospitality  with  the  manners  of 
gentlemen  and  the  humor  of  blackguards.  They  per- 
mitted him  to  squander  his  money  on  them;  at  the 
same  time  they  treated  him  with  a  contemptuous 
good  humor  which  he  was  too  blind  to  perceive.  I  had 
had  many  business  transactions  with  the  man,  and 
found  his  honesty  was  solid,  if  coarse.  Sir  Frederick 
Chalmers  was  an  old  friend  of  my  uncle's  and,  learning 
of  that,  I  suppose,  Liddle  insisted  that  I  should  be  one 
of  the  company  that  night. 

"Bring  any  of  your  friends  along;  the  more  the  mer- 
rier," he  said  as  he  left  me — a  raw  hospitality  to  which 
I  paid  no  attention  at  the  time,  but  which  I  accepted 
later,  on  Ralph's  account. 

His  house  was  brilliantly  lighted  when  we  reached  it. 
Within  we  found  it  uncomfortably  crowded  with  a  big 
company,  mostly  military.  As  usual,  everything  was 
provided  lavishly.  The  host,  in  a  loud,  jubilant  mood, 
moved  among  his  guests,  and  appeared  to  enjoy  the 


COMING  TO  CLOSE  QUARTERS  2O3 

boisterous  joking  and  horseplay  carried  on — much  of 
it  at  his  expense. 

"I'm  a  gentleman,"  I  heard  him  say,  "and  know 
what  gentlemen  like.  You'll  get  no  such  madiery  as 
this,  General,  from  the  rebels.  Nothing  but  'ard  cider. 
There  are  times  when  I  don't  count  the  cost  of  any- 
thing." 

The  company  amused  me.  I  think  it  did  Ralph, 
though,  no  doubt,  very  differently.  I  was  interested 
studying  the  men  on  whom  the  government  relied  to 
crush  the  American  cause.  Some  of  them  undoubted- 
ly were  men  of  intelligence  and  seriousness,  but  for  the 
most  part  they  struck  me  as  hopelessly  befuddled  by, 
the  trivialities  of  an  aristocratic  atmosphere.  They 
seemed  absolutely  incapable  of  grasping  a  naked  fact 
or  of  making  a  working  scheme  of  new  conditions. 
Their  conceit  was  stupendous,  but  it  matched  their  con- 
tempt for  the  rebel.  I  talked  with  many  of  them  and 
was  wearied  of  the  reiteration  when  I  ran  across  Ralph. 

I  saw  he  had  drunk  a  little  too  much;  was  becoming 
loud  and  unsteady.  I  asked  him  to  go  home  with  me 
but  he  stoutly  refused.  I  suggested  we  get  our  hats, 
and  take  a  little  fresh  air  for  a  moment  on  the  balcony. 

As  I  lifted  the  window  he  whispered : 

"Hicks's  here  somewhere.  Saw  him  for  a  moment. 
Smiled  lovingly  and — isn't  it  cold?" 

The  garden  below  was  pitch  dark,  save  where  the 
lights  of  the  house  fell  upon  the  paths  and  flower  beds. 

Fortunately,  or  unfortunately,  I  don't  know  which, 
Ralph  had  spoken  before  we  stepped  without.  The  in- 


2O4  'HE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

stant  we  were  in  the  night  air  we  heard  Hicks's  voice 
somewhere  beneath  us: 

"The  truth  is  I  need  that  money,  Cunningham,  and 
I  must  depend  on  you  for  it.  That  beggar  of  mine, 
Tennant,  has  drained  me  lately.  It  is  a  big  stake,  but 
I  shall  win." 

"So  you  say,"  growled  Cunningham. 

"Have  I  been  mistaken  with  you  yet?  Besides,  J 
don't  want  to  remind  you  how  I  have  assisted " 

"No.  You  merely  remind  me  that  you  don't  re- 
mind me,"  broke  in  Cunningham  uneasily. 

"Come,  Cunningham,  you  know  I  have  reasons " 

"Don't  care  for  any  man's  reasons — only  his  mo- 
tives." 

"And  I  don't  ask  anything  to-night,"  said  Hicks, 
raising  his  voice,  "but  vour  'yes'  or  'no.' ' 

"I  suppose  I  daren't  say  'no,'  "  mused  Cunningham. 

"You  are  usually  a  good  judge  of  what  is  prudent," 
said  Hicks,  dryly. 

"Who  is  this  girl?"  asked  Cunningham. 

"Ah!"  cried  Hicks.     "Curious?" 

"No,"  snarled  Cunningham,  "but  if  I  am  to  help 
you,  why  not  tell  me?  You  want  confidence  as  well 
as  money?  She's  wealthy,  you  say?" 

"Very,"  replied  Hicks,  in  a  tone  of  good-natured 
superiority. 

"Sure?" 

"I  usually  am  sure." 

"Umph!    Young,  I  suppose?" 

"You  may  suppose  as  much,"  replied  Hicks,  lightly. 


COMING   TO  CLOSE  QUARTERS  2O$ 

"Good  looking?" 

''Have  I  no  reputation  with  you  for  taste?"  Hicks 
was  humoring  his  questioner. 

"Tell  me  who  she  is,  and,  damn  it,  I'll  have  to  give 
you  the  money." 

"I  object  to  conditions,  Cunningham,"  said  Hicks, 
tartly.  "But  there,  after  all,  if  you  will  aid  me  you  shall 
know  her  name.  Mind !  keep  your  mouth  closed  here- 
after. It's  Miss  Rutherford." 

Ralph's  intense  interest  in  the  conversation  had  re- 
strained him  up  to  this  point  from  outbreak.  At  the 
mention  of  that  name,  and  before  I  could  withhold 
him,  he  lunged  forward  and  threw  his  hat  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  speakers. 

It  must  have  fallen  close  to  them.    Hicks  cried : 

"Hello!  what's  this?" 

I  tried  to  pull  Ralph  back.  He  wrested  himself  from 
my  grasp  and  called: 

"  'Scuse  me.    There's  a  fearful  draught  up  here." 

"Who  the  devil  are  you?"  cried  Hicks. 

"Ten — nant,"  cried  Ralph;  "at  your  service." 

"Oh,  you,  my  boy?"  asked  Hicks,  in  a  disconcerted 
tone. 

"B'lieve  it  is,"  replied  Ralph;  "ask  Alex,  here.  He 
knows." 

"I  won't  bother  the  gentleman  to  identify  you," 
said  Hicks,  with  a  short  laugh,  "but  it  is  a  pity,  Ralph, 
you  have  given  yourself  the  trouble  to  descend  for  this 
part  of  your  apparel." 

"No,"  said  Ralph.    "Can't  be  troubled  t'night.     Put 


2O6  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

it  on  the  bushes !  If  I  forget  it  will  remind  me  of  some- 
thing important  in  the  morning.  Good-night,  Hicks. 
Come,  Alex.  This  place's  too  cold. 

I  had  no  end  of  difficulty  in  getting  Ralph  to  his 
home.  He  was  all  for  returning  to  defy  or  threaten 
Hicks. 

"You  needn't  fear,"  I  said.  "Hicks  is  not  a  man  who 
needs  a  blow." 

"I  did  but  throw  him  a  hint,  Alex." 

"He  picked  it  up,"  I  said,  significantly.  "Ralph, 
you  have  absolutely  nothing  to  gain  by  this  outspeak- 
ing. And,"  I  added,  "in  this  matter  of  Catrina  you 
had  better  trust  the  girl  rather  than  anything  you  can 
do." 

"I  trust  nobody — any  more,"  he  said,  with  a  maud- 
lin accent.  "Catrina  is " 

"You  are  in  no  condition  to  discuss  Catrina,"  I  in- 
terrupted. 

"You're  right,  Alex.     I'll  talk  to'r  in  the  morning." 

This  midnight  project,  however,  was  not  carried 
out,  partly,  no  doubt,  for  lack  of  opportunity. 

Catrina,  during  these  months,  was  fighting  so  hard 
a  battle  with  herself  that  she  required  every  entrench- 
ment possible.  I  say  "with  herself,"  for  she  was  so 
certain  of  the  distance  of  Ralph's  position  that  she  did 
not  account  him  at  all  concerned  in  the  conflict.  Her 
greatest  anxiety  was  to  hide  from  him  even  the  slight- 
est evidence  of  her  inward  struggle.  The  only  com- 
fort she  allowed  herself,  and  no  doubt  it  was  what  main- 
tained her  from  a  breakdown,  was  the  cold  familiarity 


COMING  TO  CLOSE  QUARTERS  2O7 

of  a  routine  intercourse.  She  met  Ralph  at  the  table 
and  when  the  family  drew  together  in  the  evening,  but 
she  never  permitted  herself  to  be  with  him  a  moment 
alone.  This  was  one  of  her  refuges.  The  other  was 
Helen.  She  pressed  close  to  Ralph's  wife  with  all  the 
strength  of  her  nature,  and  the  friendship  that  resulted 
afforded  her  an  additional  sense  of  security. 

Helen  had  not  known  before  so  warm  a  companion- 
ship. It  was  a  new  experience  for  her  to  be  the  object 
of  so  constant  an  affection.  Catrina  both  puzzled  and 
attracted  her.  Helen  had  no  previous  idea  of  so  exotic 
a  nature.  At  times  Catrina  appeared  to  her  like  a  su- 
perior creature  exiled  from  her  own  world.  At  other 
times  she  appeared  to  be  a  loving  child  relying  upon 
her  for  comfort  and  direction.  Repeatedly,  as  though 
it  gave  her  exquisite  pleasure,  Catrina  confessed  her 
new  love  for  Helen. 

"You  are  so  serene,  dear,"  she  would  say;  "so  free 
from  the  weakness  and  confusion  that  always  trouble 
me." 

"Catrina,  that  is  really  all  in  your  imagination," 
Helen  would  assure  her. 

Catrina  would  not  permit  that  notion. 

"No,"  she  said,  "you  see  and  do.  I  merely  wish  and 
would  do.  Oh,  dear !  How  I  would  like  to  have  a  lit- 
tle of  your  strength  and  directness!" 

"For  what,  Catrina?" 

"To  be  myself!"  answered  Catrina  quickly.  "Don't 
look  at  me  like  that.  When  you  do  I  know  you  don't 
understand." 


208  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  wish  I  did  understand,  then  I  could  try  to  help 
you." 

"You  do,  Helen,  you  do — and  that's  why  I  love  you. 
No  wonder  Ralph  loves  you  and  you  are  so  happy." 

Catrina  often  talked  to  Helen  of  Ralph.  She  al- 
lowed herself  this  secret  luxury  with  a  vague  idea  there 
was  something  curative  in  asserting  indirectly  Helen's 
possession  of  her  own  heart's  loss.  The  process  was 
painful,  but  it  was  analogous  to  the  homely  remedy  of 
curing  a  burn  by  the  application  of  heat.  She  had 
many  opportunities  for  this  sort  of  medication.  The 
two  girls  were  constantly  together  and  Helen  was  a 
ready  listener  to  stories  of  Ralph's  earlier  days.  More- 
over, Catrina  stimulated  their  companionship  by  seizing 
with  a  feverish  delight  every  opportunity  offered  for 
entertainment.  I  don't  think  she  missed  a  single  ball 
or  party  or  theatrical  performance  given  at  this  time. 
She  and  Helen  were  to  be  seen  everywhere,  and  their 
acquaintance  and  company,  I  know,  were  eagerly 
sought  after  by  a  host  of  admiring  officers.  Catrina 
became  the  belle  of  the  town.  Her  health  was  drunk 
enthusiastically  by  stricken  subalterns  and  gouty  gen- 
erals alike,  who  hovered  around  her  in  public  and 
crowded  to  Mrs.  Heathcote's  parlor  whenever  the  old 
lady  threw  her  doors  open,  which,  indeed,  was  frequent 
enough  to  make  me  believe  she  sympathized  with  Ca- 
trina's  hunger  for  the  eventful. 

No  wonder  Ralph  was  dumfounded  at  Catrina's 
gayety,  but  he  was  more  annoyed  at  Whitehead  Hicks's 
persistent  attentions  to  the  girl  than  at  anything  else. 


COMING  TO  CLOSE  QUARTERS  20Q 

Perhaps  it  was  open  defiance,  due  to  that  unfortunate 
episode  at  Mr.  Liddle's,  perhaps  it  was  to  serve  as  a 
public  declaration  to  Catrina's  other  admirers,  but, 
whatever  the  cause,  it  was  plain  the  old  fox  had  aban- 
doned caution  and  was  playing  his  game  openly.  He 
called  daily  at  Mrs.  Heathcote's.  By  an  unequivocal 
assumption  of  authority  he  forced  himself  into  a  fam- 
ily position  in  the  household.  He  courted  Mrs.  Heath- 
cote  and  dominated  her;  he  flattered  Helen  and  even 
pleased  her  despite  herself  by  his  frank  cordiality;  he 
lavished  kindness  upon  Catrina,  playing  to  her  mood 
with  an  adroitness  of  which  he  was  probably  not  aware. 
Ralph  he  ignored  with  a  sporty  familiarity.  He  enact- 
ed the  prince  to  perfection,  and  as  step  by  step  he  felt 
he  was  winning,  he  became  in  dress,  spirits  and  manner 
triumphantly  young. 

Ralph  was  hopeless.  At  this  point,  I  am  sure  he 
was  ready  to  relinquish  the  fight.  Even  Helen  went 
against  him  when  she  said,  in  response  to  some  objec- 
tion of  his : 

"Mr.  Hicks  isn't  the  best  of  men,  perhaps,  but  then 
I  know  of  only  one  such.  He  can  be  very  kind  and 
considerate.  By  the  way,  he  has  invited  Catrina  and 
all  of  us  to  witness  a  play  to-morrow." 

At  first  Ralph  decided  not  to  be  of  the  party,  but 
fear  and  attraction  were  in  fhe  end  too  strong  for  him. 

The  performance,  I  remember  well,  was  given  in  the 
little  theatre  in  John  street.  The  piece,  a  burlesque  of 
the  late  Mr.  Fielding's  entitled  "Tom  Thumb,"  was 
played  with  spirit  and  humor  by  gentlemen  of  the 


2IO  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

army  and  navy.  Capt.  Stanley  spoke  a  prologue  of  his 
own  composition,  and  the  scenes  were  painted  by  Capt. 
De  Lancy.  The  house  was  crowded  with  a  very  brill- 
iant company,  but  Hicks's  party  wras  the  centre  of  all 
eyes.  I  had  my  seat  at  some  distance  from  my  friends 
and  could  notice  how  universal  the  attraction  was. 
Helen  never  appeared  to  me  more  beautiful.  She  had 
put  on  a  new  gown  which  particularly  suited  her  fair 
complexion.  Catrina,  rich  as  a  dark-red  rose,  was  a 
bewitching  contrast. 

Catrina's  gayety  was  infectious.  The  party  laughed 
so  heartily  at  the  nonsense  on  the  stage  that  Mrs. 
Heathcote  felt  called  upon  to  reprimand  them  more 
than  once.  Even  Ralph  caught  the  spirit  of  the  hour. 
With  this  renewed  elasticity  of  mkid  returned  some- 
thing of  the  old  pugnacity  toward  Hicks.  He  dis- 
puted with  him  Catrina's  attentions  at  every  point. 
When,  between  the  scenes,  I  made  my  way  to  pay  my 
respects  to  Mrs.  Heathcote,  I  found  him  in  a  rare  state 
of  boyish  volubility.  An  old  gentleman  having  quitted 
his  seat  gave  me  a  place  beside  Catrina  during  the  re- 
mainder of  the  performance. 

I  ought  not  to  have  been  deceived  by  her  mood  or 
by  Ralph's,  but  I  was.  I  found  myself  rejoicing  in  the 
general  happiness.  Even  Hicks  showed  buoyancy  as 
airy  as  the  rest,  when,  alas !  a  few  words  hsard  on  leav- 
ing the  theatre  recalled  me  to  a  sense  of  the  conflict 
that  was  being  fought  with  the  weapons  of  hilarity. 

Hicks  had  proposed  a  supper  at  his  home,  which,  Ca- 
trina, by  promptly  accepting,  forced  the  others  to  ac- 


COMING  TO  CLOSE  QUARTERS  211 

cept  also,  though  Mrs.  Heathcote  made  a  weak  demur 
un  the  score  of  too  late  hours. 

On  leaving  the  theatre  Ralph  boldly  forced  Hicks 
aside  by  offering  his  arm  to  Catrina.  The  act  was  ob- 
viously rude.  Hicks  had  established  himself  as  her 
escort.  Indeed,  he  was  already  at  her  side.  I  saw  Ca- 
trina hesitate  and  flush  scarlet.  Hicks  stood  motionless, 
watching  her  intently.  It  was  plainly  a  conflict.  Fin- 
ally, she  placed  her  arm  in  Ralph's  and  he  deliberately 
quickening  his  pace  walked  off  with  her. 

"Behold  a  clear  case  of  abandonment,  Mrs.  Ten- 
nant !"  said  Hicks  angrily  and  loud  enough  to  be  heard 
ahead  by  Catrina. 

"Oh!  He  mustn't  say  that,"  stammered  Catrina. 
The  words  made  her  shiver. 

"Never  mind  what  he  says,"  whispered  Ralph  reck- 
lessly. "I  wanted  to  ask  you  not — not  to  accept  his  in- 
vitation." 

"Why,  Ralph?"  asked  Catrina.  She  tried  to  speak 
proudly. 

"Well,  Catrina,  doesn't  it  suffice  because  I  ask  you?" 

"That  is  no  reason,"  she  said,  shortly. 

"I  supposed  as  much!  Well,  then,  I  have  a  better 
reason." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Promise  me  to  decline  and  I  will  tell  you.  It  is  real- 
ly serious." 

"I  have  accepted.  You  wouldn't  have  me  be  impo- 
lite?" 

"We  mustn't  forget  etiquette,  must  we?   Well — Ca- 


212  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

trina,  I  wouldn't  ask  unless  I  could  give  you  a  good 
reason  for  declining." 

There  was  a  tone  of  beseeching  in  his  voice. 

It  moved  Catrina.  She  was  silent  for  a  moment. 
Willingly  her  heart  would  have  accorded  him  any  re- 
quest, but  she  answered : 

"Ralph,  I  would  rather  go." 

"I  will  not  interpose,  then,"  said  Ralph,  dropping 
her  arm.  "But  go  or  not,  as  you  will,  I  think  you 
ought  to  know  that  Mr.  Hicks  has  declared  to  his 
friends  he  will  marry  you." 

"Indeed!"  said  Catrina,  annoyed  by  Ralph's  petu- 
lance. Mr.  Hicks  honors  me,  I  am  sure." 

"You  aspire,  then?"  said  Ralph,  bitterly. 

"What  else  is  left  to  a  woman?"  she  asked. 

"A  smaller  matter,  no  doubt — to  love." 

"Might  not  the  larger  affair  carry  the  lesser?"  she 
inquired  jauntily. 

"It  might;  I  hope  it  will,"  said  Ralph  sadly,  "but  for 
your  sake,  Catrina,  I  wish  it  were  the  other  way." 

"What  secrets  have  you  two?"  cried  Hicks,  who  had 
crept  up  with  Helen  almost  to  their  heels. 

"Oh,"  said  Catrina,  defiantly,  "Ralph  was  lecturing 
me  on  love." 

"Goodness !"  said  Hicks.  "Worse  and  worse !  Hear 
that,  Mrs.  Tennant !  Are  not  the  young  man's  hands 
full  enough?" 

The  tide  upon  which  Catrina  had  cast  herself  moved 
rapidly.  Her  hope,  begotten  of  her  despair,  was  that 
it  would  finally  carry  her  to  some  tranquil  resting  place; 


COMING  TO  CLOSE  QUARTERS 

or  should  that  blessing  be  denied  her  she  could  with- 
draw to  shore  again  for  a  new  resolve.  In  both  she  en- 
tirely miscalculated.  The  first  error  she  recognized 
when  she  perceived  that  the  events  of  the  last  few 
months  were  not  setting  her  free  from  the  bondage 
of  her  feelings.  The  struggle  had  cost  her  much.  She 
had  won  nothing  but  a  number  of  petty,  empty  tri- 
umphs and  hollow  truces.  The  strain  was  breaking 
her  pride,  and  more  than  once  the  words  trembled  on 
her  lips : 

"Ralph,  can't  we  be  friends  again  somehow  as  in  the 
dear  old  days?" 

She  knew  the  phrase  was  false  and  the  idea  behind 
it  deceptive.  The  "old  days"  were  past.  She  hesitated 
— Ralph  was  so  cold — and  drifted. 

"What  can  I  do?  What  shall  I  do?"  wailed  in  her 
heart. 

She  would  welcome  now  any  escape.  As  she  thought 
over  what  Ralph  had  told  her  of  Hicks's  declaration, 
she  concluded  there  at  least  was  a  door  behind  which 
she  could  lock  herself.  Hicks's  movements  were  hence- 
forth intelligible  to  her.  She  commenced  to  accept 
them  as  significant  in  the  sense  her  suitor  intended. 
The  more  she  surrendered  herself  to  this  last  refuge 
the  more  she  came  to  loath  the  man  who  tacitly  offered 
it  to  her.  Though  she  never  refused  Hicks's  atten- 
tion, she  became  frigidly  cold  to  him,  and  he  attrib- 
uted this  to  Ralph's  interference. 

Like  all  gamblers,  Hicks  knew  the  value  of  bold- 
ness. Fox  as  he  was,  he  could  play  the  lion.  At  this 


214  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

point,  when  he  felt  success  might  easily  be  his  at  the 
cost  of  a  hard  stroke,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  deliver  it. 
He  waited  his  opportunity  and  one  afternoon  at  the 
beginning  of  April  he  seized  it  when  alone  with  Ralph 
in  his  own  rooms.  At  his  request  Ralph  was  visiting 
him  regarding  their  financial  affairs. 

Seated  at  a  table  by  a  window  overlooking  Bowling 
Green,  Hicks,  with  a  bundle  of  papers  before  him,  gave 
the  young  man  a  long  account  of  his  stewardship.  He 
spoke  tersely  and  resolutely.  As  Ralph  listened  and 
watched  him  he  remarked  that  every  trace  of  the  old 
familiarity  had  been  dropped. 

"It  is  a  long  story,"  concluded  Hicks  leaning  for- 
ward and  putting  a  hand  on  the  papers  between  them, 
"but  it  is  necessary  because  I  know  these  papers,  due 
to  accidents  and  disasters,  are  not  quite  complete  in 
themselves.  I  am  sorry  I  have  to  ask  you  to  take  any- 
thing on  trust,  but  if  you  wish  to  be  as  scrupulous  as 
I  would  like  you  to  be,  perhaps  Tyndall,  and  certainly 
myself,  will  aid  you  in  filling  in  anything  you  may  think 
missing.  Take  the  papers  and  examine  them  carefully. 
Perhaps  you  ought  to  consult  a  lawyer.  Judge  for 
yourself.  Mr.  De  Kay  is  a  good  man,  if  you  care  for 
a  recommendation  from  me." 

He  pushed  the  papers  toward  Ralph  and  continued : 

"As  I  calculate,  or,  rather,  as  the  accounts  show, 
there  is  still  due  you  in  money  £3,015.  I  am  ready  to 
pay  that  sum  to  you  at  any  time. 

He  rose  and  paced  to  the  other  end  of  the  room. 

Ralph  rose  also  as  he  said : 


COMING  TO  CLOSE  QUARTERS  21$ 

"Well,  that  closes  matters  between  us!" 

"It  closes  that  particular  matter  between  us,"  said 
Hicks,  sharply,  spinning  around  on  his  heel. 

The  innuendo  was  so  clear  that  Ralph  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  take  it  up. 

"You  have  corrected  me  exactly,"  he  said.  "There 
are  other  accounts,  I  know." 

"Undoubtedly,"  said  Hicks  sternly,  "and  I  would 
like  to  settle  those  also  now,  with  your  permission." 

"The  only  difficulty  in  the  way  is  I  have  hardly  made 
up  my  mind  yet  what  form  of  payment  I  ought  to  ex- 
act from  you,"  said  Ralph. 

The  sarcasm  struck  Hicks  like  a  whip.  He  brought 
his  fist  down  angrily  on  the  table  as  he  sneered : 

"Suppose  we  come  out  of  the  bush  like  men?" 

"I  have  not  yet  come,  out  of  the  woods,"  said  Ralph 
deliberately. 

"Indeed,"  said  Hicks,  "you  enjoyed  the  trip  so 
much!" 

"Thanks  to  you.  That  was  a  kindness,  sir,  which  I 
would  be  ungrateful  not  to  pay  to  the  full." 

"If  you  do  it  will  be  the  first  debt  to  me  you  have  had 
the  willingness  to  discharge." 

"I  am  glad  you  take  it  so,"  said  Ralph.  "Believe 
me,  I  shall  win  your  good  opinion  in  that  matter." 

"I  am  ready  at  any  time,"  cried  Hicks,  "to  find  you 
a  man  and  not  a  sneak." 

"That  insult  becomes  you,"  said  Ralph. 

"I  doubt  whether  quite  as  much  as  it  does  you,"  re- 
plied Hicks,  bowing. 


2l6  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"You  infernal  blackguard !"  roared  Ralph. 

"I  leave  it  to  your  fine  sense  of  propriety  whether  a 
man  recently  married  who  endeavors  to  tamper  with 
a  young  girl's  affections  should  talk  of  honor,"  said 
Hicks,  calmly. 

"You  know  you  lie,"  said  Ralph  confidently. 

"My  knowledge  may  not  be  as  searching  as  yours," 
said  Hicks  deliberately,  "but  before  I  terminate  this  in- 
terview I  desire  for  the  good  of  you  and  yours — please 
remark  I  say  'yours/  sir — to  warn  you  that  I  will  tol- 
erate no  longer  your  rascally  cross-purposes  with  a  cer- 
tain young  lady. 

"Your  friendliness  is  overpowering,  as  usual,"  said 
Ralph,  "and  as  one  warning  merits  another,  let  me  ad- 
vise you  to  withdraw  your  aspirations,  or " 

"Or?"  interrupted  Hicks. 

"Or,"  continued  Ralph,  "I  shall  present  that  unset- 
tled account  of  mine  for  payment.  You  understand?" 

"So  fully,  Mr.  Tennant,  that  I  think  there  is  nothing 
further  to  be  said." 

Hicks  opened  the  door.  As  Ralph  went  out  the  two 
men  bowed  to  each  other. 

Ralph  came  over  to  me  and  told  me  of  his  encounter 
with  Hicks. 

"Well,  Ralph,"  I  said,  as  he  finished  his  story,  "cer- 
tainly you  have  cleared  the  decks  for  action." 

"I  am  glad  I  have,"  he  said  firmly.  "The  policy  of 
repression  suits  me  little." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  have  to  gain,"  I  said  cau- 
tiously. 


COMING  TO  CLOSE  QUARTERS 

"I  do,"  he  said.  "Room  for  my  feelings  to  work  in. 
I  am  positively  happy,  Alex.  Damn  temporizing,  I 
say." 

"But,  Ralph,"  I  persisted,  "this  is  not  your  affair." 

"I  shall  make  it  mine,"  he  said  resolutely. 

"Have  you  any  idea  of  Catrina's  feelings?  Per- 
haps— 

"There  shall  no  longer  be  any  doubt,"  he  said  loud- 
ly. "I  am  resolved  that  she  shall  not  wed  Whitehead 
Hicks,  not  if  I  have " 

"Go  on,"  I  urged. 

"Oh!  I  have  a  choice  of  several  courses,  he  said 
slowly. 

"You  will  go  so  far?"  I  asked. 

"Alex,  I  will  go  to  hell  if  that  is  necessary." 

"Ralph,  think,  there  is  great  danger  in  this  mood." 

"Nothing  can  change  it,  Alex." 

"And  Helen,"  I  suggested,  "are  you  thinking  at  all 
of  her?" 

He  became  silent  at  this.    "Then  he  cried: 

"She  must  share  my  fate,  Alex." 

"Fate!"  I  exclaimed,  disgusted,  "you  are  not  going 
to  justify  an  unkindness  by  that  sorry  fiction  of  every 
hothead  and  rascal  who  kicks  his  duty  out  of  doors  or 
defies  his  conscience?" 

"Alex,  don't  say  that,"  he  pleaded.  "Don't  you 
know  me?" 

"Know  you,  my  boy — who  better?" 

He  grasped  my  hand  as  I,  carried  beyond  myself, 
continued: 


2l8  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  love  you,  Ralph,  because  despite  your  ever-wav- 
ering nature  I  have  seen  that  God  has  placed  within 
you  so  much  of  that  pure  white  light  that  is  the  only 
guide  of  poor  humanity.  It  has  burned  dimly,  my  boy, 
of  late.  I  have  watched  it.  You  mustn't  extinguish  it. 
Be  careful ! 

The  dim  thoughts  of  many  months  found  voice  at 
that  moment.  Ralph  shrank  back  from  me.  Falling 
into  a  chair  he  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 

"Oh,  Alex,  I  love  her,  I  love  her,"  he  moaned. 

The  unspeakable  pity  of  the  thing  overpowered  me. 
I  knew  I  was  not  face  to  face  with  a  momentary  senti- 
ment, or  with  selfish  wilfulness.  Facts  of  a  different 
kind,  the  cruel  misplaced  results  of  two  lives,  were  be- 
fore me." 

"I  have  guessed  that,  Ralph,"  I  said. 

"I  have  fooled  myself,  fooled  everybody,  mistaken 
everything,"  he  cried  hopelessly. 

"Yes,  yes,"  was  all  I  could  say. 

"I  had  dim  premonitions,"  he  went  on,  as  though 
the  confession  eased  him;  "I  put  them  aside  because 
they  were  so  vague.  Duty  seemed  elsewhere.  The  in- 
clinations of  a  month  had  all  the  promise  of  a  lifetime." 

"Exactly  so,"  I  muttered.     "I  understand." 

"Alex!  Will  anybody  else  understand?  Sometimes 
I  don't  think  I  do  myself.  I  was  sure  I  would  be  hap- 
py in  Helen's  strength  and  loveliness.  I  had  no  other 
thoughts.  I  would  have  been  happy  if " 

"Ah,  the  'ifs/  Ralph,"  I  said  with  pity. 

"I  have  not  changed,  Alex,"  he  went  on,  "not  a  bit, 


COMING  TO  CLOSE  QUARTERS  2 19 

believe  me.  I  love  her  still — that's  what  puzzles  me — 
that  is  I  love  her  just  as  I  have  loved  her  from  the  first. 
I  love  her  in  that  way  so  well  that  I  would  kill  this 
other  love,"  he  continued  fiercely,  "but  I  can't.  I  have 
tried.  It  is  my  life,  Alex!  Am  I  a  knave?  What  am 
I?  Tell  me,  if  you  can." 

"You  are  no  knave,  Ralph,"  I  said,  "but  you  must  be 
more  than  that.  Our  virtues  must  be  positive." 

"Good  God!  I  don't  shirk  the  hard  path,"  he  ex- 
claimed. 

"Prove  it!"  I  cried.  "There  is  only  one  way — by 
taking  it." 

"Where  will  it  lead  to?"  he  asked  hopelessly.  "What 
comfort  can  I  be  to  any  one?  Of  what  use  as  I  am? 
The  facts  will  remain,  Alex,  though  I  deny  them  in  my 
prayers  every  day." 

"I  am  no  preacher,  Ralph;  last  of  all  would  I  make 
a  sermon  of  your  agony,  but  my  whole  belief  speaks 
to  you  when  I  say,  that  no  matter  what  the  cost  of 
life  may  be,  there  is  only  one  way  to  pay  the  lesser 
price  for  it." 

"Martyrdom!"  he  exclaimed. 

"Be  it  so!"  I  said;  "you  cannot  avert  the  revenge  of 
facts.  Your  only  choice  is  between  meeting  it  nobly  or 
basely.  The  sum  must  be  worked  out.  Two  and  two 
will  make  four  no  matter  from  which  end  you  count. 
The  dirty  end,  the  dirty  result — there  will  be  no  less 
suffering  in  that  without  the  offset  of  a  single  valid 
recompense.  The  question  is  this :  Wil-l  you  lift  your 
head  in  face  of  your  troubles,  or  will  you  bend  it?" 


22O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

My  words  touched  him.  Pale  to  the  very  heart,  I 
knew,  he  stood  before  me  as  he  cried: 

"By  God,  I  will  not  bend !" 

"Be  that  your  oath !"  I  said,  my  eyes  full  of  tears. 
"There  shall  be  knights  of  Heaven's  nobility  and  the 
chivalry  of  a  quiet  purpose  in  these  dull  days  of  ours !" 

"How  you  ennoble  me,  Alex!"  he  cried,  taking  my 
hand. 

"That  is  not  given  to  me,  Ralph,"  I  said,  verily 
humbled  by  this  high  result. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
MISS  RUTHERFORD'S  MESSENGER. 

HICKS  was  no  laggard.  He  assumed  the  offensive  at 
once,  by  driving  early  the  next  morning  to  the  house 
on  King  street.  Usually  his  visits  were  addressed  nom- 
inally to  Mrs.  Heathcote.  On  this  occasion  he  asked 
directly  for  Miss  Rutherford.  Ralph  had  already  left 
the  house  on  some  business  connected  with  the  papers 
turned  over  to  him  the  day  before,  and  it  was  not  until 
Mrs.  Heathcote  told  him  on  his  return  that  he  knew 
Catrina  had  gone  driving  with  Hicks. 

"I  am  surprised  you  allow  it,  Aunt,"  he  said,  angrily. 

"I  see  no  reason  to  prohibit  anything  so  harmless," 
said  the  old  lady;  "Mr.  Hicks  is  one  of  our  oldest 
friends." 

"As  though  I  don't  know  that,  Aunt!  But  do  you 
know  Mr.  Hicks  is  boasting  that  he  will  marry  Ca- 
trina?" 

"There  is  nothing  so  very  dishonorable  in  that,"  said 
Mrs.  Heathcote,  sniffing;  "if  I  was  a  man  I  would  say 
the  same  thing — and  mean  it." 

The  old  lady  had  never  quite  forgiven  Ralph  the  dis- 
appointment of  her  hopes. 

Ralph  saw  it  was  useless  to  carry  his  objections  fur- 
ther in  that  quarter  at  that  moment.  There  was  noth- 
ing to  do  but  to  wait  until  Catrina  returned.  He  made 


222  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

up  his  mind  that  he  would  then  talk  plainly  to  her 
about  Hicks.  He  couldn't  believe  that  Catrina  would 
take  another  step  along  the  road  she  was  traveling,  af- 
ter she  had  heard  his  disclosure. 

"She  doesn't  know  what  a  villain  the  man  is,"  he 
thought.  "It  is  strange  that  she  tolerates  him  at  all — 
in  that  role.  Yet  women  are  subject  to  queer  caprices. 
Has  not  Catrina  already  half  confessed  that  her  vanity, 
ambition  (Heavens,  what  is  it?)  is  flattered  by  that 
scoundrel's  attentions?  Should  she  persist " 

While  musing  thus  Ralph  was  standing  by  the  win- 
dow looking  vacantly  into  the  street.  As  though  this 
dreadful  possibility  had  suddenly  shaped  itself  before 
him  he  turned  around  so  quickly  that  he  nearly 
knocked  out  one  of  the  panes. 

He  returned  several  times  to  the  house  to  find 
whether  Catrina  had  come  home.  After  dinner  he  was 
bound  to  escort  Helen  and  Mrs.  Heathcote  to  Mrs. 
Wade's,  and  as  that  lady's  house  was  situated  near  St. 
George's  Square,  indeed  close  to  the  mansion  afterward 
occupied  by  His  Excellency,  George  Washington,  he 
was  absent  on  this  duty  a  longer  time  than  on  any  of 
the  other  rounds. 

He  had  barely  left  the  house  on  this  mission  when 
Catrina  entered.  Old  Dinah  noticed  as  she  admitted 
her  young  mistress  that  she  was  flushed  and  excited. 
Catrina  asked  at  once  for  her  Aunt.  When  the  negress 
said  Mrs.  Heathcote  had  gone  out  the  girl  hurried 
breathlessly  upstairs,  where  Dinah  found  her  later, 
sobbing  bitterly  on  her  bed. 


MISS  RUTHERFORD'S  AIEZSEXGLR  223 

"Then  a  great  big  soldier  who-  could  only  say,  'yah, 
yah,'  brought  a  letter  for  Mis'  Catriney,"  was  Dinah's 
story,  "and  when  I  gave  it  to  missey  she  looked  at  it 
ever  so  long  and  then  she  tore  it  open  and  read  it  and 
brushed  her  hair  back  and  went  down  stairs  as  stately 
as  a  queen  and  began  writin'  in  the  parlor." 

It  was  there  Ralph  found  Catrina,  when,  after  leav- 
ing his  wife  and  his  aunt  at  their  friends,'  he  returned 
home. 

As  he  entered  the  room  Catrina  looked  up  from  her 
writing  just  to  give  him  a  glance.  She  bent  her  head 
over  her  paper,  and  continued  writing  without  saying 
a  word. 

Ralph  sat  down  and  waited.  He  began  to  count  the 
panes  of  glass  in  the  windows,  and  to  draw  imaginary 
lines  from  picture  frame  to  picture  frame  to  check  his 
impatience.  He  listened  to  the  scratching  of  Catrina's 
quill  as  it  dashed  along,  hesitated,  resumed,  then  finally 
stopped.  Its  sputtering  at  times  seemed  almost  vocal. 
Ralph  found  himself  striving  to  find  words  for  the 
sounds.  Twice  Catrina  tore  up  the  sheet  she  had  filled, 
and  each  sundering  sounded  like  a  screech  to  Ralph. 
He  smiled  at  his  fancies.  Finally  Catrina  ceased  writ- 
ing. She  reread  her  letter  and  then  placing  it  before 
her  on  the  table  with  a  sigh,  gazed  at  it,  her  face  resting 
on  both  her  hands. 

"Is  it  hard  to  find  words,  Catrina?"  asked  Ralph, 
unable  to  contain  himself  longer. 

"Yes,"  she  said  with  a  sudden  start,  "but  I  have 
found  them." 


224  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  have  been  watching  you,"  said  Ralph. 

"Have  you?"  she  asked  softly. 

"That  pen  of  yours,"  continued  Ralph,  "seems  to 
have  been  speaking  a  language  I  couldn't  understand." 

He  was  speaking  merely  of  the  fancies  of  a  moment 
before.  He  had  no  intent  to  question,  but  his  words 
were  curiously  significant  to  Catrina. 

"Speaking  to  you?"  she  asked  in  surprise. 

She  paused,  considered  for  a  long  time  and  then  con- 
tinued like  one  resolved. 

"Speaking  to  you,  Ralph?  No,  you  have  little  love 
for  my  correspondent." 

These  words  brought  Ralph  quickly  to  his  purpose. 
Walking  to  the  table  he  said : 

"I  don't  intend  to  be  rude,  Catrina,  but  may  I  ask  are 
you  writing  to  Mr.  Hicks?" 

She  felt  glad  in  answering: 

"Yes." 

Ralph's  fingers  tightened.  In  Catrina's  manner 
there  was  something  of  defiance,  and  he  felt  he  was 
about  to  plead  a  lost  cause. 

"Catrina,"  Ralph  began,  "I  have  long  wanted  to 
have  a  serious  talk  with  you." 

Here  he  found  it  difficult  to  proceed. 

"Have  you?"  she  asked  smiling  nervously.  "What 
it  is  about?" 

"About  Mr.  Hicks,"  said  Ralph  quietly.  "Catrina, 
I  beg  you  to  renounce  all  acquaintance  with  that  man." 

Seized  with  a  daring  that  astonished  herself,  Ca- 
trina said: 


MISS  RUTHERFORD'S  MESSENGER  22$ 

"He  told  me  you  would,  Ralph." 

"Did  he  dare  to  tell  you  why?"  cried  Ralph. 

"He  told  me  you  had  quarrelled  with  him  over  some 
money  matters  and  were  his  enemy." 

"He  lies!"  cried  Ralph. 

Ralph's  anger  was  pleasant  to  Catrina.  She  regard- 
ed him  half  fascinated  as  now,  standing  before  her,  he 
poured  out  his  long  tale  of  Hicks's  dishonesty  and 
treachery. 

"Now  you  can  understand,"  he  concluded,  "why  I 
am  interested  in  knowing  what  your  relationship  with 
that  man  is.  Is  it  serious,  Catrina?" 

For  lack  of  words,  and  dominated  by  a  purpose  that 
set  every  nerve  quivering,  she  pushed  over  toward 
Ralph  a  letter  from  among  the  papers  in  front  of  her. 
It  was  from  Hicks. 

While  Ralph  was  reading  it  Catrina  was  free  to  scan 
another  document  of  infinitely  greater  interest  at  that 
moment — Ralph's  face. 

Twice  Ralph  tried  to  read  the  letter.  The  words 
slipped  from  his  eyes  and  blurred.  Only  the  purport 
of  the  lines  stood  forth — Hicks's  fervid  pleading  that 
Catrina  would  answer  in  the  affirmative  his  request  of 
the  morning  that  she  would  consent  to  be  his  wife. 

Again  a  sense  of  triumph  flashed  through  Catrina 
as  she  witnessed  the  pain  reflected  in  every  line  of 
Ralph's  face. 

"You  promised  to  consider  that  question?"  he 
gasped. 

"I  asked  for  a  little  time — and — promised " 


226  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"And  your  answer?"  he  asked,  sternly. 

"I  have — I  would "  she  faltered. 

"Catrina,  you  be  his  wife — his  wife !"  cried  Ralph. 

"Yes,"  she  muttered. 

"No,  it  shall  never  be !" 

Ralph's  violent  prohibition  alarmed  her.  There  was 
a  ring  in  the  voice  that  made  her  gasp  for  breath. 

When  Catrina  welcomed  Ralph's  first  approach  to 
this  subject  she  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  the  passion 
she  was  about  to  stir,  or  that  she  would  madden  one 
whom  she  hoped  at  most  to  sting.  As  she  answered 
Ralph's  questions  one  by  one  her  heart  beat  faster,  and 
the  desire  for  the  revenge  of  love  forced  her  on.  She 
had  been  mute  so  long.  She  rejoiced  in  this  last  op- 
portunity to  make  a  confession  by  denial  and  speak  her 
heart's  meaning,  even  in  an  inverse  sense. 

"You  have  no  right  to  forbid  me,"  she  said,  striving 
to  assert  herself. 

"No  right!"  exclaimed  Ralph,  hopelessly.  "My 
God,  don't  I  know  it !" 

Catrina  felt  her  heart  pulse  in  her  throat.  Thought 
was  impossible.  Wild  joy,  the  cry  of  many  days,  filled 
her. 

"I  must  marry  him,"  she  said,  exultantly. 

"Sooner  I  would  kill  him,  or  even  you,"  cried  Ralph. 

"I  must  marry  him,"  she  repeated. 

"You  love  him?"  asked  Ralph,  fiercely. 

Catrina  bent  her  head. 

"Ah !"  cried  Ralph,  triumphantly,  "it  is  so !  You  will 
not  marry  him,  Catrina.  Thank  God !" 


MISS  RUTHERFORD'S  MESSENGER  227 

"Oh,  Ralph,  Ralph,"  she  pleaded,  "I  must.  Don't 
you  know,  I  must." 

"No,  Catrina,"  said  Ralph,  softly,  bending  toward 
her,  "you  shall  marry  no  one  until  you  can  give  him 
your  love." 

"My  love?"  asked  Catrina,  wildly. 

Fear  and  joy  shone  in  her  eyes  as  they  met  Ralph's. 
As  to  Ralph,  a  joy  akin  to  madness  filled  him  as  he 
said: 

"My  love,  then,  Catrina — the  love  of  yours  that  is 
mine — mine !" 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  as  she  cried : 

"Hush;  hush,  Ralph!" 

"The  words  at  least  are  honest,  Catrina,"  said  Ralph. 
"Still,  they  are  only  words.  You  have  nothing  to  fear." 

"Nothing  to  fear,"  she  said  blankly.  "It  is  not  fear, 
Ralph." 

The  hopelessness  of  the  situation  appalled  Ralph. 

"Catrina,  I'm  a  scoundrel  to  make  you  suffer.  I  de- 
serve to  be  shot. 

"Ralph,"  she  said  rising.  "Don't  you  know  if  I 
could,  I  would  wrap  my  life  around  you  to  shield  you? 
Suffer!"  she  continued  almost  delirious.  "Suffer!  I 
will  suffer  for  you  gladly  always.  Oh!  I  am  happy 
now." 

Bursting  into  tears,  she  placed  her  head  on  the  table 
and  sobbed. 

Events  had  so  far  transcended  Ralph's  calculations 
that  he  was  dumfounded.  He  ached  to  comfort  Ca- 
trina. He  had  passed  the  limit  of  words.  Mrs.  Heath- 


228  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

cote  and  Helen  would  be  home  again  shortly.  He  had 
not  yet  settled  with  Hicks. 

"Catrina,"  he  asked  "where  is  your  reply  to  Mr. 
Hicks?" 

"There,"  sobbed  the  girl,  pointing  to  her  letter. 

"I  may  tear  it  up?"  he  asked. 

"I  don't  care  what  you  do  with  it,"  she  said  sadly. 

Ralph  tore  it  into  a  hundred  pieces  and  threw  them 
on  the  fire. 

"Now,  Catrina,"  he  said,  returning  to  the  table,  "an- 
swer that  letter  again." 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  say,  Ralph?"  she  asked 
helplessly. 

"Whatever  your  heart  dictates.  I  will  not  tear  it  up 
a  second  time." 

"What  my  heart  dictates,"  she  murmured  as  she 
seized  the  pen  and  wrote: 

"I  cannot  be  your  wife.  I  don't  love  you.  This  is 
final.  I  can  only  beg  you  to  forgive  me  if  it  hurts  you." 

She  handed  the  note  to  Ralph. 

"Seal  it  and  address  it,"  he  commanded. 

She  complied.     As  he  rose  she  asked  alarmed : 

"Where  are  you  going,  Ralph?" 

"To  deliver  this,"  he  answered  holding  forth  the  let- 
ter. 

"You?"  she  exclaimed. 

"Do  you  object?"  he  asked. 

"I  object  to  nothing,  Ralph,  any  more." 

He  went  to  the  door.  Turning  around  he  advanced 
to  Catrina  and  took  her  hand. 


MISS  RUTHERFORD'S  MESSENGER  22Q 

"Catrina,"  he  said,  "I  am  partly  mad  I  believe.  I 
must  think  if  I  can.  I  don't  know  what  to  say  to  you. 
I  have  said  too  much — much  more  than  I  intended. 
Forgive  me.  Can  you?" 

"Forgive  you!    For  what,  Ralph?" 

"For  being  fool,  coward  and  knave,"  he  replied  bit- 
terly. 

"If  love  came  at  our  bidding,  Ralph,"  she  said  with 
delicious  softness,  "we  could  send  it  away  at  our  will. 
Its  reality  consists  in  its  being  beyond  our  control. 
For  a  thousand  reasons  I  wish  I  didn't — care  a  little 
for  you.  But,"  she  added,  her  voice  vibrating,  "for  one 
— one — one  reason,  I  rejoice,  and  if  that  brings  me 
suffering,  don't  fear  that  I  would  put  it  away  from  me 
if  I  could." 

Catrina  said  this  with  a  sweetness  that  went  far  be- 
yond the  words.  It  was  the  benediction  of  love — ac- 
ceptation of  its  martyrdom.  Ralph  bowed  his  head 
and,  not  daring  to  trust  himself,  hurried  out  with  the 
letter. 

He  went  directly  to  Hicks's  house.  The  noise  of  the 
streets  stunned  him.  The  promanaders  floated  before 
him  like  moving  specks  in  the  clear  blue  afternoon  air. 
The  red  brick  houses,  the  patches  of  green  budding 
foliage,  the  drab  of  the  streets — everything — seemed 
unfamiliar,  with  a  far-off  strangeness,  as  though  after 
a  long  absence  he  had  returned  to  old  haunts. 

He  was  surprised  to  meet  Hicks,  elegantly  attired  in 
scarlet  and  lace,  leaving  his  own  door.  Ralph  was  so 
deeply  preoccupied  he  almost  ran  into  his  enemy.  To 


23O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

cover  his  surprise  he  saluted  courteously.  Hicks  drew 
himself  up  haughtily. 

"I  have  a  letter  for  you,"  said  Ralph. 

Hicks  instantly  recognized  the  superscription.  Yield- 
ing to  his  anxiety  he  tore  open  the  letter.  His  face 
changed  color  to  an  ashy  gray  as  he  read  it.  With  a 
look  full  of  hate  he  turned  upon  Ralph  contemptuous- 
ly: 

"I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  "I  haven't  the  coin  with  me  or 
I'd  pay  Miss  Rutherford's  messenger  at  once  for  his 
service." 


CHAPTER    XXII. 
CATRINJS  COMMAND. 

DURING  the  remainder  of  the  week  Catrina  was  con- 
fined to  her  room.  Her  nerves,  after  the  long  tension 
they  had  suffered,  completely  gave  way.  Yet  during 
these  days  of  exhaustion  there  were  moments  of  de- 
licious calm  for  her,  when  she  lost  herself  in  some  vague 
distant  spring  land,  lying  deep  in  the  blue  May  sky, 
into  which  she  gazed  with  half-closed  eyes  through  the 
window  near  her  bedside. 

Ralph  during  these  days  walked  the  earth  sadly, 
striving  to  find  some  process  for  himself  that  would 
restore  its  ancient  beauty  and  give  to  his  existence 
again  its  lost  healthy  tone. 

He  told  me  the  whole  story  one  pleasant  afternoon 
as  we  sat  on  the  rocks  near  Whitehall.  The  rising  tide 
was  filled  with  sea  odors  and  the  water  gurgled  among 
the  stones  as  the  summer  waves  rolled  in. 

"What  would  you  advise  me  to  do,  Alex?"  he  asked, 
as  he  finished  his  sad  recital. 

"I  can  think  of  no  other  medicine,  Ralph,  but  ac- 
tivity." 

"That's  the  remedy  to  which  my  mind  also  perpet- 


232  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

ually  turns,"  he  said.  "If  I  could  only  feel  the  spur  of 
some  interest !" 

"There  are  surely  spurs  enough,"  I  said,  "for  a  young 
man." 

"True,  there  ought  to  be.  Somehow  they  have  lost 
their  prick." 

"That's  only  a  momentary  insensibility,"  I  said 
hopefully. 

"I  trust  it  is,"  he  said.  "To-day  anything  I  turn  to 
must  have  in  it  some  element  of  the  extreme." 

"Not  despair,"  I  said. 

"No,  I  am  righting  hard  against  that.  I  hope  I  am 
still  a  bit  of  a  man." 

"You  hinted  you  were  about  to  return  to  the  Manse," 
I  reminded  him. 

"You  must  see,"  said  he,  "that's  out  of  the  question 
for  me  just  yet  a  while.  It's  too  quiet.  No  place 
would  be  so  haunted  with  voices  as  a  prison.  The  still- 
ness would  be  forever  speaking;  the  walls  would  re- 
flect back  the  pictures  in  one's  eyes.  Isn't  it  so?" 

"I  see  your  point,"  I  answered.  "If  not  the  Manse, 
where  else?  You  can't  stay  here." 

"I  have  no  such  idea,"  he  said. 

"Where,  then?"  I  asked. 

He  hesitated  before  replying. 

"Now,  don't  jump  at  me  when  you  hear  what  I  have 
to  say,"  he  began.  "Consider  fully  the  situation  I  am 
in." 

"I  will,"  I  promised. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "I  am  determined  to  enlist." 


CATRINrfS  COMMAND  233 

''Enlist?"  I  cried,  my  promise  going  to  the  winds. 
"You'd  make  a  fine  Hessian !" 

"You  mistake,"  he  said.  "I  go  with  the  flag  of  my 
country;  not  its  government." 

"Why,  your  very  bones  are  Tory !"  I  cried.  "Your 
father's  instinct  is  only  accidentally  suppressed  in  you.' 

"Helen's  are  not,"  he  said. 

I  saw  at  once  the  road  his  determination  was  taking. 

"Does  Helen  know?"  I  asked. 

"Know  what?" 

"Anything." 

"She  may  guess  a  little,"  he  said,  "but  know  she  can- 
not." 

"If  she  knew  all,  Ralph,  would  she  ask  you  for  this — " 

"Atonement?"  he  repeated. 

"Atonement,  then,"  I  said.  "Don't  you  see  the  real 
purpose  of  your  own  plan?" 

"I  am  not  looking  very  curiously,"  he  said,  as  he 
tossed  a  piece  of  driftwood  into  the  water  and  watched 
it  bob  up  and  down  on  the  waves. 

"She  will  never  permit  it,"  I  said. 

"She  must,"  he  asserted  positively.  "My  mind, 
Alex,  is  made  up." 

"The  American  cause  looks  like  a  lost  cause  now," 
I  suggested. 

"What  of  that?"  he  said,  laughing.  "I  am  destined 
to  take  to  lost  causes.  What  do  you  think?" 

He  was  in  a  headstrong  state  these  days.  I  noticed 
he  went  with  great  determination  upon  his  course. 
Catrina  soon*  moved  about  the  house  again.  Ralph 


234  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

avoided  her  in  the  most  set  manner.  Catrina  sup- 
ported him  in  this.  No  doubt  she  understood  and 
sympathized  with  his  action,  but  I  judge  there  was 
torture  in  it.  Only  once  did  he  depart  from  his  plan, 
and  that  exception,  no  doubt,  he  had  determined  upon. 
He  induced  her  to  visit  the  old  house  at  Greenwich 
with  him. 

"It  is  my  last  request,  Catrina,"  he  urged,  and  I  can 
understand  how  this  compulsion  overcame  the  girl's 
scruples. 

They  went,  without  a  word,  along  the  road  he  and 
I  had  taken  a  year  ago.  The  house  was  in  charge  of 
a  caretaker,  but  he  led  the  way  around  the  terraces 
down  into  the  orchard. 

Dear  me !  The  strongest  of  us  have  a  sense  of  some 
sort  for  sentiment.  Our  feelings  curiously  tend  to  seek 
their  intimate  situations.  When  we  know  the  cup  is 
poisoned  we  find  some  desperate  satisfaction  in  drink- 
ing the  lees.  It  is  senseless  to  charge  the  dying  with 
being  morbid  or  to  ask  them  to  view  things  with  our 
healthy  eyes.  There  was  none  too  much  of  health  in 
Ralph  at  that  time,  and  his  thoughts  were  for  the  most 
part  merely  so  many  reflections  of  his  feelings. 

The  old  caretaker  saw  the  two  and  came  out  to  give 
them  welcome.  Ralph,  after  listening  to  her  chatter 
for  a  time,  excused  her  with  the  statement  that  he  and 
Catrina  had  made  the  trip  merely  to  see  how  the  or- 
chard was  promising.  As  the  woman  hobbled  away, 
Ralph  said: 

'The  orchard  hasn't  changed,  has  it,  Catrina?" 


CATRINA'S  COMMAND  2$  5 

"No — and  yes,"  she  answered. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  bother  you  again,"  he  said.  "I 
simply  couldn't  do  without  a  moment  with  you  to  finish 
some  half-said  things.  No  other  place  I  could  think 
of  offered  an  opportunity  but  here." 

"I  have  come  with  you,  Ralph,  because  you  com- 
manded, but  isn't  it  better  for  both  of  us  to  leave  those 
half-said  things  unsaid?" 

"If  you  wish  it  so,"  he  said. 

"I  have  no  wishes  that  clash  with  yours,"  she 
pleaded. 

"I  will  say  nothing  you  would  not  wish  me  to  say. 
I  am  going  away,"  he  continued,  "which  is  the  only 
proper  course — if  anything  is  proper  now." 

"That  is  best,  I  suppose,"  said  the  girl,  bending  her 
head. 

"You  don't  'suppose,'  Catrina — you  are  sure." 

"Yes,  I  am  sure." 

"In  a  few  days  I  shall  join  the  American  army." 

"Ralph!"  cried  Catrina. 

"Why  not?"  he  asked.  "But  that  isn't  the  question. 
Some  step  has  to  be  taken.  I  see  no  other  quite  so 
satisfactory.  Do  you?" 

"No,"  said  the  girl,  hopelessly. 

"Before  I  go,  is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you, 
Catrina?" 

"Me?"  she  asked.     "No,  Ralph,  nothing." 

"I  have  confessed  to  you,"  he  went  on,  "what  I 
ought  to  have  kept  secret " 

"I — I  read  it,"  she  said,  softly. 


236  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"You  cannot  belittle  my  fault  by  accusing  yourself." 

"It  would  have  made  no  difference,  Ralph,  the  other 
way." 

"Sometimes  I  see  it  all  that  way,"  he  said,  "but  now 
I  am  anxious  to  guard  you  against  any  extreme  while 
I  am  away." 

"That  matter  is  ended,"  she  said,  referring  to  Hicks. 

"Nothing  else  of  that  desperate  kind  is  possible?"  he 
asked. 

"Nothing  now,"  she  replied,  solemnly. 

"Remember,  I  am  speaking  only  of  forced  steps, 
Catrina.  I  am  not  covertly  asking — a  pledge." 

"Pledge !"  she  cried.  "I  understand,  Ralph.  Neither 
in  that  sense  do  I  make  any  promise  that  might — 
trouble  you,  but — but " 

Rebelling  tears  choked  the  girl. 

"Never  mind,  Catrina,"  he  said,  tenderly.  "I  think 
I  understand." 

"Do  you?"  she  supplicated.  Then  she  burst  forth: 
"I — I — at  the  end  of  my  life,  Ralph,  I  will  be  waiting 
here  to — to  bless  you." 

"Catrina,  I  am  a  pauper  before  you  with  nothing  to 
offer." 

"Yes,  you  have,  Ralph,"  she  cried.  "Return  to  me 
some  day,  Helen  and  yourself  hand  in  hand." 

"Is  that—"  he  faltered. 

"My  command,"  she  cried,  hysterically. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 
BURNING  THE  BRIDGES. 

RALPH  decided  not  to  hesitate  to  burn  his  bridges  be- 
hind him.  He  appealed  to  me  to  aid  him  through 
my  personal  acquaintance  with  some  of  the  leaders  of 
the  American  cause.  I  was  glad  enough  to  do  this. 
Of  course,  I  recognized  the  step  he  contemplated  was 
a  desperate  one.  I  knew  also  there  was  something 
better  than  desperation  in  it.  I  hoped  the  new  life  he 
intended  to  plunge  into  would  in  the  end  completely 
restore  his  peace  of  mind.  There  were  undoubtedjy 
great  hardships  ahead,  but  if  he  joined  the  Continental 
army  they  would  be  endured  in  a  cause  that  even  in  his 
eyes  could  be  by  no  means  ignoble,  and  with  men  a 
majority  of  whom  had  cast  upon  the  issue  more  than 
the  mere  adventurer's  stake. 

When  Ralph  returned  with  Catrina  from  Greenwich 
he  sought  Helen  at  once.  She  was  in  the  rear  garden, 
assisting  Mrs.  Heathcote,  who  at  that  time  of  the  year 
was  always  deeply  interested  in  her  flower  beds.  The 
scent  of  lilac  filled  the  air  and  the  spring  beauty  and 
promise  formed  a  melancholy  contrast  to  Ralph's  bitter 
hopelessness.  He  shrank  from  the  cruelty  of  disturb- 
ing Helen's  apparently  happy  content. 


238  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Look  at  the  buds  already  on  this  rose-bush,"  she 
said  to  Ralph.  "Won't  it  be  beautiful  in  a  few  weeks? 
Don't  you  think  the  spring  has  come  very  quickly  this 
year?" 

"Yes,"  he  assented,  his  mind  faltering  with  its  pur- 
pose. "It  seems  only  the  other  day  the  frost  left  us. 
Dear  me!  that  is  full  of  buds,  Helen,  isn't  it?" 

"Isn't  it?"  repeated  Helen,  joyfully.  "This  ought  to 
be  a  great  year  for  roses." 

He  was  glad  to  linger  thus  with  Helen,  stretching  to 
the  last  moment  even  the  semblance  of  the  old  rela- 
tionship. He  followed  her  around  from  plant  to  plant, 
helping  her  in  her  labors. 

"Where  have  you  been  all  the  morning,  Ralph?" 
Helen  asked  carelessly,  as  she  stooped  to  disentangle 
the  leaves  of  a  large  geranium. 

"Oh !"  exclaimed  Ralph  in  a  low,  uneasy  voice,  "Cat- 
rina  and  I  made  a  trip  out  to  Greenwich." 

"To  Greenwich!  You  and  Catrina!  Why  didn't 
you  tell  me?" 

Helen  lifted  her  head  as  she  put  this  question. 

"No  particular  reason,"  answered  Ralph,  slowly, 
"unless  just  at  that  moment  I  didn't  want  to  say  any- 
thing about  it." 

"Oh!"  said  Helen,  thoughtfully,  as  she  bent  down 
again  over  the  flowers. 

For  a  space  neither  spoke.  Helen's  thoughts  were 
busy.  Ralph  hesitated  to  begin  with  his  subject,  partly 
from  a  sense  of  cowardice,  and  partly  from  abhorrence 
of  inflicting  a  wound  the  depth  of  which  he  was  unable 


BURNING  THE  BRIDGES  239 

to  foresee.  Looking  around  he  saw  that  his  Aunt  had 
stepped  within  doors.  He  took  Helen's  hand  and  said : 

"Helen,  let  us  sit  down  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  sum- 
mer-house. I  have  something  to  tell  you." 

"What  is  it,  Ralph?  Has  anything  gone  amiss, 
dear?" 

Helen  instinctively  feared  and  she  tried  to  read  some- 
thing in  advance  in  Ralph's  face. 

"You  are  not  well?"  she  asked  tenderly,  as  she  seated 
herself  beside  him  in  the  little  arbor. 

"I  am  well  enough  in  one  sense,"  he  replied,  study- 
ing the  ground. 

"But,  darling,  you  have  been  troubled  about  some- 
thing for  some  time.  I  have  seen  it." 

"Have  you?"  he  asked,  watching  her  closely.  "Have 
you  guessed  the  cause?" 

"I  have  tried  to,  Ralph,  and — and  at  times  I  have 
fancied  perhaps  it  is  because  I  don't  make  you  happy." 

"And  at  other  times?" 

"I  have  thought  I  might  be  mistaken,"  she  said, 
slowly. 

Silence  fell  upon  both  of  them  again.  Each  alike 
felt  it  was  something  to  have  said  so  much. 

Ralph  sat  staring  before  him.  Tears  were  master- 
ing Helen  when  she  threw  her  arms  around  her  hus- 
band and  begged : 

"Tell  me,  Ralph.  What  is  it?  Don't  I  deserve  to 
know?" 

"It  is  all  the  other  way,"  said  Ralph,  kissing  her. 
"You  are  so  good  I  ought  not  to  have  to  tell." 


240  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Ralph,  I  can  endure  anything  but  doubt  and  fear." 

"Fear  of  what?" 

"That  we  are  apart  ever  so  little." 

At  these  words  he  shrank  back,  dismayed,  from  his 
resolve. 

"Tell  me,  Ralph,"  pleaded  Helen  softly,  stroking  one 
of  his  hands. 

"I  wish  I  knew  how  to,  so  that  you  wouldn't  mis- 
understand." 

"I  have  never  misunderstood  you.     Why  now?" 

"Because  in  one  sense,  Helen,  love  is  intensely  sel- 
fish." 

"Selfish!"  she  exclaimed. 

"Selfish  Helen,  I  mean  where  its  own  interests  are 
concerned." 

"Don't  say  that,  darling,"  said  Helen.  "Love  would 
sacrifice  everything,  renounce  everything — " 

"Everything  but  love,"  interrupted  Ralph. 

"Everything  but  love !"  Helen  repeated  in  a  dazed 
way.  "Oh,  Ralph,  what  do  you  mean?" 

"I  mean  love  is  intolerant  of  anything  that  even  for 
a  moment,  no  matter  how  caused,  interferes  with — 

"Ralph,  go  on,  go  on,"  she  beseeched.  "What  is  it 
you  are  trying  to  tell  me?" 

"Helen,  I  hardly  know  myself.  You  won't  under- 
stand. I  shan't  be  able  to  make  you  understand." 

"You  are  not  trying,"  she  said  in  a  tone  kindly  but 
direct.  "It  is  not  so  hard  to  be  direct  if  we  mean  the 
facts  to  be  understood." 

"That  is  all  well  enough,"  he  said  bitterly,  "when  the 


BURNING  THE  BRIDGES  2^1 

truth  is  a  simple  matter.  It  is  easy  for  me  to  say  I 
was  in  Greenwich  this  morning,  but  perhaps  I  might 
talk  to  you  forever,  before  you  would  understand  pre- 
cisely why  I  was  there — as  I  understand  it." 

"Perhaps  you  fear  I  would  understand  too  well,"  she 
said  with  spirit. 

"Perhaps,"  he  replied  sorrowfully.  "  Too  well'  is 
exactly  what  I  fear." 

Ralph's  vagueness  struck  Helen  as  a  purposeful  in- 
directness. She  instantly  guessed  what  he  was  hover- 
ing around.  A  score  -of  little  suspicions  and  trivial  de- 
tails of  the  past  winter  returned  to  her  now  with  start- 
ling vividness. 

"Ralph,  are  you  speaking  at  all  of  Catrina?" 

"I  am,  Helen,"  he  said  solemnly,  "but  I  implore 
you,  for  your  sake  and  mine,  to  pause  in  your  con- 
clusions." 

Helen  paled.  The  garden  she  was  staring  into  was 
blotted  from  her  sight.  Ralph  placed  his  head  on  her 
shoulder  and  this  act  recalled  her.  With  a  shudder 
she  threw  her  arms  around  him. 

"I  have  feared  something,  Ralph.  I  have  seen  and  I 
have  been  blind.  What  is  it?" 

"It  is  so  weak  to  say  it,  Helen,  but  it  has  been  be- 
yond me.  Do  you  understand?" 

"No,  Ralph,  I  don't.  It  is  so  strange  after — after 
all." 

"Yes,"  he  repeated,  "after  all.  I  didn't  know,  Helen, 
or  rather  I  didn't  realize,  but — she  has  been  in  it  all 
from  the  first." 


242  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"From  the  first!"  cried  Helen. 

"From  the  very  first,  from  the  old  days  when  we  were 
almost  children  together." 

With  a  cry  of  pain  she  said: 

"And  now  I  am  in  the  way!" 

Ralph  attempted  to  put  his  arm  around  her,  but  she 
withdrew. 

"No!  no!"  she  cried. 

"I  don't  know  what  excuse  to  make  to  you — "  he 
began. 

"Oh,  don't  try,"  interrupted  Helen  bitterly. 

He  continued. 

"If  indeed  any  excuse  is  really  valid.  I  shall  not  be 
surprised  if  you  spurn  me  instead  of  helping  me  to 
fight-" 

"Fight  for  what?"  she  asked. 

"For  you,"  he  replied. 

"Isn't  it  rather  late?"  she  replied. 

"To  fight  for  you,"  he  repeated  angrily;  "to  continue 
to  fight  for  you  to  the  end.  Don't  be  sarcastic,  Helen, 
or  superior.  Are  you  so  strong  that  you  never  can 
falter  in  anything  ever,  or  am  I  so  base  that  I  am  un- 
worthy of  forgiveness  or  help?  Do  you  want  to  teach 
me  that  the  only  unpitying  judge  in  the  world  is  the 
woman  who  once  said  she  loved  me?" 

"You  are  cruel,"  she  cried. 

"You  may  well  say  that,  Helen,  if  you  desire  merely 
to  close  my  lips.  If  I  had  stolen,  you  might  still  par- 
don me,  if  I  had  murdered,  you  might  still  help  me;  but 
because  I  tell  you  of  that  which  — which  I  have  fought 


BURNING  THE  BRIDGES  243 

against,  weakly  if  you  like,  but  with  some  suffering,  you 
have  neither  forgiveness  for  me  nor  the  pity  of  the 
stranger." 

With  a  cry  she  turned  to  him. 

"Don't  say  that,  Ralph.  I  can  pity  you,  and " 

she  faltered — "I  can  forgive  you  if " 

"If  what,  Helen?" 

"Oh,  Ralph,  don't  you  love  me?" 

"I  do,  Helen,  though  probably  you  won't  believe  me, 
because  in  some  respects  I  have  to  qualify  it." 

"Ralph,  there  is  only  one  love  possible.  Either  I 
possess  it  or  I  don't." 

"As  I  live,  Helen,"  cried  Ralph  vehemently,  "you 
are  mistaken.  As  I  loved  you  at  first  I  love  you  to- 
day. You  were  satisfied;  you  would  have  continued 
so  to  the  end." 

"You  are  trying  to  fool  me,"  said  Helen.  "Will  you 
tell  me  one  thing?" 

"I  will  tell  you  anything,  but  the  risk  of  misunder- 
standing must  be  yours." 

"Could  you  tell — any  other  woman  you  love  her?" 

"I  could  not  deny  it  were  I  asked,"  Ralph  replied. 

Helen  rose.     Her  pride  was  stricken. 

,"I  am  in  the  way,  then;  I  knew  it,"  she  said  bitterly. 
"Go  to  her." 

"Yes,"  said  Ralph,  "that  is  the  inevitable  attitude. 
Love  usually  is  no  more  freely  given  than  the  shop- 
keepers' wares.  In  both  cases  we  may  obtain  only  on 
condition  we  pay  the  price.  The  force  of  the  argu- 
ment is  on  your  side  now,  but  you  are  not  right.  I 


244  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

shall  say  nothing  more,  for  it's  useless.  My  course  was 
determined  some  days  ago,  though  I  did  hope  it  would 
be  in  another  spirit — your  bidding  would  go  with  my 
departure." 

"You  are  going!"  cried  Helen  in  alarm. 

"Oh,  don't  fear;  not  to  her.  Were  I  as  free  as  the 
winds  I  would  flee  her." 

"Where  are  you  going?"  Helen  asked  blankly. 

"To  join  the  Continental  army." 

"No,  no,  Ralph !"  she  implored. 

"Your  own  cause,  Helen — is  that  nothing  to  you?" 

"I  didn't  mean,  Ralph "  she  faltered. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  meant,  Helen.  Now,  I 
don't  know  what  you  think  of  me,"  said  Ralph,  "but 
there  are  some  things  you  shan't  misunderstand.  I 
won't  let  you  believe  I  am  seeking  any  selfish  ends  or 
taking  the  easiest  path.  There  is  nothing  that  I  would 
do  but  fight  this  out  under  your  standard,  whether  you 
have  me  or  not." 

"You  mustn't  go,  Ralph.     Stay  with  me." 

"And  be  doubted  and  silently  suffered." 

"It  will  not  be  so,  Ralph." 

"It  will  be  so,"  he  insisted. 

"I  promise  you." 

"You  can't  promise  that,  Helen.  Belief  is  like  love 
— not  to  be  controlled.  A  minute  ago  I  told  you  I 
loved  you,  despite — well,  let  me  say  it  boldly — my  love 
for  Catrina.  Now,  answer  me  as  I  answered  you.  Do 
you  believe  me?" 

"Ralph,  don't  ask  me.     Kiss  me." 


BURNING  THE  BRIDGES  245 

Ralph  kissed  her  as  he  said: 

"You  can't  answer  me?  You  don't  know  whether 
you  can  believe  me,  do  you?" 

"I  can't  understand  it,"  she  said. 

"Time  will  show,  Helen.  If  you  have  no  faith  to- 
day, is  the  future,  the  clear  truth  of  what  I  tell  you, 
worth  hoping  for?" 

"Need  you  ask?" 

"No,"  he  said.     "I  think  not,  and  that's  enough." 

Mrs.  Heathcote  was  coming  down  the  garden. 

"Come,  Helen,"  said  Ralph,  "I  have  much  to  ar- 
range with  you.  Let  us  say  no  more  about  this." 

"But  you  won't  go?" 

"Help  me  to  be  true  to  my  own  ideals,  Helen,  and 
don't  protest." 

After  the  evening  meal  Ralph  told  his  Aunt  of  his 
determination  to  join  Gen.  Washington's  forces.  Helen 
and  Catrina  were  seated  at  the  table  within  the  light  of 
the  candles.  Ralph  expressed  himself  in  a  jocular 
fashion.  He  said  his  sympathies  were  always  with  the 
under  dog,  and  as  in  this  case  the  nether  animal  was 
hard  pressed,  he  felt  like  giving  him  what  help  he  could. 
Alex  had  promised  to  assist  him  in  the  initial  steps. 

"I  never  knew  there  was  a  martial  streak  in  our  fam- 
ily, Auntie.  Did  you?  Isn't  it  queer  it  should  break 
out  now?" 

Mrs.  Heathcote  turned  to  the  two  girls.  Both  were 
occupied  with  their  thoughts.  The  work  they  were 
doing  served  as  an  excuse  for  not  lifting  their  eyes. 
The  old  lady  understood  the  meaning  of  the  silence. 


246  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

She  had  received  hints  enough  lately  of  the  situation  to 
prepare  her  for  this  plan  of  Ralph's.  In  telling  of  the 
refusal  sent  to  Hicks,  Catrina  had  half  confessed  the 
meaning  of  the  interview  she  had  had  with  Ralph  re- 
garding her  letter.  Now,  as  she  viewed  her  silently 
disunited  family,  Mrs.  Heathcote  sighed. 

"Is  this  irrevocable,  Ralph?"  she  asked. 

"It  is  the  very  best  step  possible,"  answered  Ralph. 

"Dear!  dear!"  said  the  old  lady.  "How  impossible 
happiness  is!  I  counted  so  much  on  you,  Ralph." 

"You  can  still,  after  a  little  while." 

"A  little  while,"  she  repeated;  "that  is  all  that  is  left 
to  me." 

"I  am  sorry,  my  dear  Aunt.  For  your  sake  and 
that  of  others  I  wish  there  were  another  course.  What 
else  do  you  see?" 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  petulantly,  "all  I  see 
is  a  huge  mistake." 

The  tears  were  in  Catrina's  eyes.  She  hurriedly  left 
the  room.  Mrs.  Heathcote  immediately  followed  her. 
Ralph  went  over  to  Helen  and  put  his  arms  around  her. 
She  lifted  her  pale  face  to  him  as  she  said,  wistfully; 

"A  huge  mistake,  Ralph." 

"My  darling  wife,  my  Helen,  that's  what  the  world 
says.  It  is  for  you  and  me  to  prove  it  wrong.  Help 
me,  Helen;  I  will  pay  you  back." 

"Oh,  Ralph,  I  wouldn't  be  worthy  of  the  love  I  want 
from  you  if — if  I  wouldn't  share  the  struggle  with  you 
to  the  end." 

"And  forgive  me?"  he  pleaded. 


BURNING  THE  BRIDGES  247 

"I  think  if  I  could  understand  it  I  would  find  there  is 
nothing  to  forgive." 

"Not  quite  that,  Helen,"  he  protested,  as  he  bent 
down  and  kissed  her. 

Before  the  end  of  the  week  Ralph  departed  with 
Helen  for  the  Manse. 

The  farewells  were  hastily  made,  as  though  every 
one  shunned  the  ordeal.  The  parting  was  almost  as 
between  strangers.  When  Catrina  said  good-by  to 
Helen  she  longed  to  kiss  her  in  the  old  affectionate 
way,  and  a  prayer  for  forgiveness  fluttered  to  her  lips. 
But  Helen  contented  herself  with  saying  "Good-by, 
Catrina,"  and  the  impulse  froze,  and  all  that  remained 
of  it  was : 

"God  bless  you,  Helen." 

Scott  was  delighted  to  welcome  the  couple  home. 
He  had  no  idea  how  flat  his  sly  jokes  about  bride  and 
groom  fell  upon  sad  ears,  or  how  pathetic  were  his  re- 
marks about  the  honeymoon  journey  and  the  necessity 
for  settling  down  at  home  at  last. 

Ralph  and  Helen  agreed  not  to  say  a  word  to  any 
one  regarding  their  unfortunate  position.  Later  they 
might  be  happy  enough  to  retrace  their  steps  over  the 
road  they  had  traveled  in  the  last  few  months,  and 
they  judged  it  prudent  not  to  leave  behind  any  witness 
of  their  old  discomfiture.  When  Ralph  told  Scott  of 
his  purpose  to  join  the  Continental  army  the  old  man 
stood  for  a  moment  swallowing  his  surprise;  then  he 
exclaimed : 

"Egad !  What  is  there  a  woman  can't  do  with  a  man ! 


248  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

She  makes  him  and  then  remakes  him!  I  wouldn't 
have  believed  it  possible,  Helen.  I  swear  I  wouldn't. 
Well,  you've  got  the  bit  in  his  mouth,  and  no  mistake. 
Just  like  you,  my  girl!  It's  a  good  cause,  Ralph — a 
noble  cause — one  I  have  sacrificed  something  for,  as 
you  know.  Give  me  your  hand.  I'm  prouder  than 
ever  of  you." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  FATE. 

AT  this  time,  it  will  be  remembered,  Gen.  Washington 
had  withdrawn  his  army  into  the  New  Jersey  moun- 
tains above  Quibbletown. 

The  British  headquarters  in  the  field  were  at  Bruns- 
wick. Thence  by  way  of  Amboy  communication  was 
held  open  with  New  York.  These  were  the  only  points 
in  the  Jerseys  left  in  possession  of  the  British.  Gen. 
Howe  was  in  command,  with  Lord  Cornwallis,  Lieut. 
Gen.  De  Heister  and  others.  Since  the  battle  at 
Princeton  early  in  the  year  the  army  seemingly  had 
been  committed  to  a  policy  of  complete  inactivity. 
Never  surely  was  generalship  more  impotent,  or  utterly 
lazy. 

In  New  York,  I  remember,  we  heard  almost  daily 
of  little  outpost  affrays  which  were  invariably  dignified 
by  rhetorical  military  language  in  the  reports  as  though 
they  were  affairs  of  importance.  Presently  the  humor 
of  the  thing  penetrated  even  the  Tory  intelligence. 
People  began  to  ask  when  the  serious  business  of 
stamping  out  the  rebellion  would  be  taken  in  hand. 


25O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

So  far  something  of  the  air  of  a  picnic  had  attached 
itself  to  the  British  operations.  Certainly,  many  of  the 
officers  were  acting  as  though  they  were  engaged  in 
holding  a  series  of  reviews  instead  of  successfully 
prosecuting  a  war.  New  York  was  very  gay.  Diver- 
sions of  every  sort  were  kept  going  with  indefatigable 
energy,  and  whenever  the  movements  were  not  car- 
ried too  far  afield  from  the  city  pleasure  followed  the 
army  like  a  lot  of  aristocratic  baggage. 

Hicks  figured  among  the  gayest.  The  rebuff  he  had 
received  from  Catrina  didn't  upset  his  high  spirits  in 
the  least.  He  was  evidently  making  money.  His 
rooms  became  notorious  as  the  scene  of  the  most  reck- 
less gambling  of  the  time.  With  imperturbable  good 
humor  he  continued  to  visit  Mrs.  Heathcote,  and  when 
the  old  lady  attempted  to  hint  that  his  presence  might 
be  distressing  to  Catrina,  he  replied: 

"I  trust  I  may  still  be  permitted  to  occupy  my  old 
position,  though  I  am  denied  the  higher  one  I  aspired 
to.  I  am  too  old,  Mrs.  Heathcote,  to  carry  around 
a  broken  heart,  too  seriously  attached  to  you  and  the 
young  lady  to  refer  again  to  an  incident  that  for  me  is 
closed.  I  have  too  few  friends  to  allow  you  to  cut  me 
off — unless,  indeed,  you  think  I  merit  it." 

"Like  yourself,  Mr.  Hicks,"  said  the  old  lady,  "I  have 
too  few  friends  left  to  wilfully  dismiss  one." 

Hicks  sighed. 

"Time  dismisses  us  fast  enough,"  he  said.  Then  he 
added,  "Pray,  what  has  become  of  my  young  friend 
Ralph  and  his  fair  bride?" 


THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  FATE  2$ I 

"You  don't  know?"  asked  Mrs.  Heathcote,  inno- 
cently. "I  thought  all  his  friends  knew." 

"Unfortunately  Ralph  and  I  had  a  little  falling  out. 
I  regret  it  deely.  Youth  is  hotheaded,  Mrs.  Heath- 
cote,  and — well,  to  be  fair,  I  must  add  old  age  is  often 
tender  of  its  dignity.  But  it  won't  do  to  tell  tales  be- 
hind any  one's  back.  It  will  all  blow  over,  I  hope. 
Where  did  you  say  he  was?" 

Mrs.  Heathcote  hesitated. 

"It  is  no  secret,  I  suppose,"  urged  Hicks. 

"No,  no,"  said  the  old  lady,  "I'm  sure  you  are  still 
his  friend." 

"A  few  rash  words  cannot  efface  the  memories 
of  years,"  said  Hicks,  assuringly.  "Perhaps  I  can  still 
be  of  service  to  him." 

"I  am  afraid  not,  Mr.  Hicks,  you  are  on  the  wrong 
side.  Ralph  has  joined  the  Continental  army." 

"The  rebels!"  exclaimed  Hicks  in  triumph  difficult 
for  him  to  hide. 

"Don't  judge  him  too  hard.  His  wife's  influence  is 
accountable  for  it." 

"To  be  sure !  Dear  me !  Dear  me !  Perfectly  clear ! 
I  must  say  it  does  honor  to  his  heart  if  not  to  his  judg- 
ment. Where  is  he  serving?" 

"With  a  Col.  Clarkin's  regiment  of  dragoons  some- 
where near  Morristown,  according  to  the  last  word  we 
received  from  him." 

"Umph !  Dangerous  position !"  said  Hicks,  thought- 
fully. "I  am  going  out  to  New  Brunswick  myself  in  a 
day  or  two  with  Gen.  Howe.  I  believe  there  are  some 


252  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

important  operations  afoot.  It  would  be  curious  if  I 
should  catch  sight  of  the  young  fellow,  wouldn't  it?" 

As  near  as  I  could  find  out  Ralph  at  that  moment 
was  stationed  in  the  hills  just  above  Scotch  Plains  with 
a  corps  of  about  one  thousand  men  under  the  command 
of  Lord  Stirling.  There  is  a  pass  at  that  point  through 
the  mountains,  and  this  force  was  acting  as  an  advance 
guard. 

Some  of  the  men  were  quartered  in  the  village  at  the 
foot  of  the  gap.  There  were  only  a  few  scattered 
houses  there,  the  largest  of  which,  owned  by  a  farmer 
named  Meeker,  stood  at  one  corner  of  the  crossroads. 
Ralph  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  quartered  here  with 
Col.  Clarkin  himself,  and  fifteen  others,  including  a  Dr. 
Rowley.  Ralph  had  struck  up  a  close  acquaintance 
with  this  man,  and,  as  with  all  friendships  he  made,  this 
one  was  destined  to  greatly  affect  his  career. 

Rowley  was  a  Jerseyman  born  in  those  parts.  I 
judge  there  was  somewhere  a  streak  of  Irish  in  his  fam- 
ily. He  possessed  the  happy,  irresponsible,  good-na- 
tured spirit  of  the  Celt — a  most  companionable  man, 
daring,  resourceful  and  sympathetic.  He  was  of  fine 
stature,  had  a  deep  bass  voice  and  his  pleasant  eyes 
twinkled  out  of  a  mass  of  dark  hair  that  almost  entirely 
covered  his  face.  He  was  originally  a  blacksmith. 

Ralph  met  him  first  at  Morristown,  shortly  after  he 
presented  himself  to  Col.  Clarkin  with  my  letter.  It 
was  some  little  ailment  incident  to  change  of  living 
that  threw  him  into  Rowley's  acquaintance. 

"Pulse  normal,"  he  said  in  his  jolly  way,  holding 


THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  FATE  2$$ 

Ralph's  wrist  and  scanning  his  face.  "Grog  is  what 
you  need,  my  young  friend — no  piddling  pills.  Medi- 
cine's a  farce,  with  a  grim  epilogue,  once  in  a  while. 
Doctors'  reputation  is  based  on  the  fact  that  sick  men 
only  die  once.  Look  at  me !  Would  you  believe  it,  I 
am  sick,  my  constitution  broken  and  what's  left  of  me 
covered  with  a  tormenting  itch?  Ah,  listen  to  that 
violin!  Isn't  there  in  that  gut  something  soft  and 
tender,  stirring  to  the  passions?  It's  the  most  endear- 
ing sound  in  the  world,  always  excepting  the  whisper 
of  a  woman's  voice  close  to  your  ear." 

He  rattled  on  in  this  style,  to  Ralph's  great  amuse- 
ment. 

'Then  you  don't  think  there's  anything  the  matter 
with  me?" 

"With  you?  Nothing  that  the  worst  to  come  won't 
cure." 

"You  offer  a  cheerful  remedy,"  said  Ralph,  laugh- 
ing. 

"One  you  needn't  thank  the  apothecary  for!"  cried 
Rowley.  "You're  a  bit  homesick,  my  boy,  for  the 
sweet  felicities  you've  left  behind  you.  I  know  the 
symptoms — melancholic  gloom.  But  when  you've 
vomited  sickish  food  half  the  time,  as  I  have,  you'll  find 
you've  emptied  the  contents  of  a  surfeited  heart.  Come 
to  my  tent;  I've  a  little  grog  there.  If  you've  an  ear 
for  music  you  shall  hear  a  song  of  mine  extolling  war 
and  Washington.  This  is  a  great  place  of  penance  for 
a  glutton." 

Rowley  was  well  nigh  a  specific  for  Ralph's  malady. 


254  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

He  added  almost  a  touch  of  the  homely  to  the  raw,  in- 
hospitable novelty  of  the  camp  and  its  rude,  hard  life. 
Wherever  he  went  the  man  radiated  his  abundant  vi- 
tality and  good  humor.  It  was  impossible  to  be  gloomy 
in  his  company.  He  was  forever  saying  or  doing  the 
unexpected.  Even  his  perpetual  longing  for  food  and 
his  complaints  about  his  own  physical  ailments  had  an 
air  of  something  very  close  to  purposeful  geniality 
about  them.  He  had  a  great  liking  for  music,  though 
without  a  bit  of  a  voice  himself.  As  soon  as  he  dis- 
covered Ralph  could  sing  tolerably  he  commenced  to 
prize  his  fellowship  with  a  warmth  that  pleased  Ralph 
as  much  as  it  astonished  him.  Night  after  night  he 
sought  the  young  man  and  carried  him  off  to  sing 
homely  melodies  to  himself  and  his  company. 

"None  of  your  confused  music  for  me,"  he  would 
say.  "And  only  occasionally  the  rollicking.  I  like 
the  melancholy  air — something  with  just  a  touch  of 
wretchedness  and  despair  in  it.  You  have  the  thing, 
Mr.  Tennant,  down  to  the  perfection  of — a  disease." 

"That's  a  fearful  compliment,"  said  Ralph,  joining 
in  the  laughter  of  Col.  Clarkin,  Major  Wells  and  others 
who  were  cronies  of  Rowley. 

"I  don't  mean  it  to  be  such,  my  boy.  A  man  ex- 
tracts his  superlatives  easiest  from  his  own  profession, 
and  I  gave  you  one  out  of  mine.  And  faith,  when  you 
think  of  it  now,  do  you  believe  a  robust,  well-fed,  porky 
nature  was  ever  attuned  to  music?" 

"Egad,  doctor,  you've  got  to  explain  away  your  own 
case !"  cried  Adjt.  Moore. 


THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  FATE  2$$ 

"Myself!"  exclaimed  Rowley.  "Wasn't  I  hinting 
at  myself,  with  my  broken  constitution?  How  could 
you  miss  the  point  when  it  was  so  near  you?  Clear 
your  throat  from  the  bottle  beside  you,  Mr.  Tennant, 
and  if  you  please  we'll  start  where  we  ended  last  night 
with  'The  Sentinel's  Grave.' ' 

Whether  we  indorse  Rowley's  opinions  upon  the 
nature  of  music  or  not,  certainly  it  is  a  quick  and  strong 
source  of  attraction  between  individuals.  If  Rowley 
was  a  happy  discovery  for  Ralph  the  benefit  was  re- 
turned in  full. 

"You're  just  the  antidote  I've  needed,  Mr.  Tennant" 
said  Rowley.  "If  I  liken  you  to  a  medicine,  don't  think 
you  mayn't  regard  me  as  a  friend." 

"After  all  the  ill  you've  told  me  about  pills  and  bo- 
luses!" said  Ralph  laughing. 

"Don't  mind  my  similitudes  if  you  can  get  at  my 
meaning,"  said  Rowley. 

In  this  way  a  treaty  was  concluded  between  the  two 
men  that  was  soon  in  full  effect. 

By  and  by  intelligence  reached  headquarters  that  the 
British  below  were  in  motion.  Their  movements  were 
at  first  taken  to  indicate  an  attack.  Gen.  Stirling,  with 
a  detachment  including  Ralph's  regiment,  was  ordered 
to  Scotch  Plains.  The  weather  was  extraordinarily 
warm,  the  roads  so  dry  and  dusty  that  the  long  march 
over  the  hills  from  Morristown  severely  tired  the  men. 
Scouting  parties  were  immediately  thrown  out  to  cover 
all  the  roads  from  New  Brunswick  by  way  of  Metuchen 
and  Woodbridge.  The  activity  of  the  British,  how- 


256  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

ever,  was  confined  to  their  own  camp.  Small  parties 
were  detached  on  petty  marauding  expeditions  result- 
ing in  the  capture  of  a  few  prisoners  and  the  plunder  of 
the  homes  of  a  number  of  inhabitants  in  the  country 
around.  Elizabethtown  was  surprised  at  night  by  a 
party  of  Highlanders  and  Hessians,  who  succeeded  in 
burning  some  stores  collected  for  the  Continental  army 
before  they  were  driven  off  by  the  militia.  But  these 
operations  were  so  desultory  and  purposeless  that  it 
was  difficult  to  divine  their  object  until  word  was  re- 
ceived from  Staten  Island  that  the  British  were  prepar- 
ing to  embark  at  Amboy  for  New  York.  This  news 
was  hailed  with  delight  by  Gen.  Stirling's  little  army, 
particularly  when  word  came  down  later  from  Wash- 
ington's headquarters  that  reinforcements  were  coming 
and  operations  were  to  be  commenced  to  harrass  the 
enemy's  retreat. 

On  the  day  this  news  was  received,  Rowley  burst 
into  the  little  back  room  of  the  Meeker  house,  where 
Ralph  was  sitting  struggling  to  darn  some  stockings  in 
the  fading  light  of  the  gloaming.  The  windows  were 
opened  wide  upon  the  garden  to  admit  the  faint  even- 
ing air.  Some  robins  were  singing  their  liquid  "Hurry 
up.  Hurry  up,"  in  an  old  apple  tree,  and  from  the 
woods  beyond  came  the  many  sounds  of  the  camp. 

"Hurrah !  Hoorooh !"  cried  Rowley,  throwing  his 
cap  on  the  table.  "What  are  you  up  to,  my  boy.  That 
isn't  the  way.  Give  it  to  me.  Let  me  show  you. 
First  you  must  run  a  lot  of  parallel  threads.  So.  Then 
— let  me  see.  Oh,  yes.  You  go  in  and  out,  up  and 


THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  FATE  2 57 

down,  this  way.  Try  it  yourself.  Hold !  You  mustn't 
pull  on  the  string;  that  only  puckers  it." 

"What  were  you  hurrahing  about?"  asked  Ralph, 
stopping  his  work  to  wipe  the  perspiration  from  his 
face. 

"You  said  you  wanted  something  to  do." 

"Well?" 

"You've  got  it.  Lieut.  Fryer  and  a  dozen  more  are 
ordered  to  Westfield  to-night.  You're  one  of  them." 

"What's  it  all  about?" 

"Don't  know  exactly.     Something's  on  foot." 

"I  am  sorry  you  are  not  included. 

"That's  the  fun  of  it,  my  boy.  I  am  going.  I  begged 
in  as  guide.  Gosh !  I  know  every  tree  around  here !" 

"Where  is  this  Westfield?"  asked  Ralph. 

"A  little  place  about  three  miles  away.  There's  a 
road  there  leads  right  on  to  Rahway.  Rahway  is  on 
the  road  to  Woodbridge,  and  from  Woodbridge  you 
can  follow  your  nose  to  Brunswick.  See!  Hurrah! 
Sing  up !" 

"Hurrah!"  said  Ralph.     "When  do  we  start?" 

"At  eight.  Say,  Ralph,  there's  an  old  flame  of  mine 
near  Westfield,  and  I  swear  if  Mary  Hadsell  doesn't 
decapitate  half  a  dozen  chickens  for  us  to-night  she'll 
have  no  more  charm  for  Rube  Rowley." 

Shortly  before  8  o'clock  Lieut.  Fryer  mustered  his 
little  company  and  explained  that  the  first  objective  of 
their  nocturnal  march  was  Farr's  farmhouse. 

"Don't  I  know  it!"  exclaimed  Rowley.  "Shoulder- 
ing one  of  its  stone  flanks  almost  on  the  highway.  It's 


258  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

a  disreputable,  dilapidated  place  you're  taking  us  to, 
Lieutenant." 

"No  doubt,"  said  Fryer.  "We  are  after  disreputable 
characters.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  the  Farrs,  Rowley?" 

"Did  I  ever?  Who  hasn't  around  here!  The  en- 
tire family  are  only  one  remove  from  bandits." 

"Well,"  said  the  Lieutenant,  "last  night  they  broke 
into  Mr.  Marchand's  house,  killed  his  son " 

"Charley  Marchand?"  exclaimed  Rowley. 

"I  believe  so;  plundered  the  house,  insulted  the 
women  and  whipped  the  old  man,  half  naked,  almost 
into  the  camp  here.  The  orders  are  to  arrest  them." 

The  march  at  first  was  along  the  road  that  ran  east- 
ward, skirting  the  base  of  the  hills.  Before  the  out- 
break of  troubles  it  was  a  route  much  traveled  by  those 
who  preferred  to  make  their  way  to  New  York  by  land 
instead  of  by  sloop  from  Perth  Amboy.  It  was  in  ex- 
cellent condition  and  overarched  by  trees  that  excluded 
the  light  of  the  clear,  moonless  night.  The  men  moved 
rapidly  through  the  cool  evening  air  in  which  there 
was  not  a  sound  except  the  shrill  trill  of  innumerable 
frogs.  Instead  of  branching  off  at  the  road  leading 
directly  into  Westfield,  upon  Rowley's  advice  it  was  de- 
cided to  continue  on  further  and  take  a  cross  road  that 
passed  directly  in  the  rear  of  the  Farr  farmhouse.  This 
lengthened  the  journey  by  perhaps  a  mile,  but  the  ad- 
vantage was  apparent  when  the  men  were  halted  be- 
hind the  clump  of  big  trees  through  which  twinkled 
the  lonely  ray  of  a  solitary  lighted  window. 

"There  are  three  doors,"  whispered  Rowley,  "one  on 


THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  FATE  259 

this  side  and  one  in  the  basement  in  front,  and  one  on 
the  veranda  just  above  it." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  house  was  surrounded.  Men 
were  stationed  behind  the  trees  with  orders  to  stop  any 
one  attempting  to  escape.  Fryer  with  Rowley,  two 
troopers  and  Ralph  marched  up  the  flight  of  rickety 
steps  and  knocked  loudly  on  the  upper  door. 

The  knocking  was  repeated  several  times  before  any 
sound  was  audible  within.  Then  slow,  shuffling  foot- 
steps were  heard,  and  the  door  was  timidly  opened  by 
a  gray-haired  hag. 

She  held  a  light,  which  illuminated  her  wrinkled  face. 
Her  eyes  were  struggling  with  sleep.  She  gazed  in  a 
dazed  way  at  the  soldiers  as  they  brushed  past  her  and 
entered  the  stuffy,  scantily  furnished  room  she  had 
just  quitted.  It  contained  only  a  few  chairs,  a  rickety 
tossed  bed  and  a  table,  on  which  were  the  remnants  of 
a  meal.  In  one  corner  sat  a  young  man,  who  rose  in 
a  crippled  manner  when  the  soldiers  entered.  He  re- 
garded them  with  staring  eyes  as  though  speechless. 
His  excitement  was  evinced  by  a  rapid  twitching  of  his 
long,  distorted  fingers  and  a  nervous  jerking  of  the 
head. 

"What  do  you  want?"  drawled  the  old  woman  stand- 
ing at  the  doorway. 

"Where's  Eb  Farr  and  John  Farr?"  demanded  Fryer. 

"Oh,  for  the  Lord's  sake !"  wailed  the  old  woman. 

"None  of  that!"  commanded  Fryer.  "Out  with  it! 
Where  are  they?" 

"Mister,  they  ain't  here.     I  swar'  to  you." 


26O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Search  the  rooms,  boys.  Who  are  you?"  asked 
Fryer. 

"I'm  their  blessed  mother,"  snivelled  the  old  woman. 

"Oh,  you  are?  Well,  we'll  take  you  along.  Who's 
this  dumb-head?" 

"He's  my  poor  son,  that  had  the  top  of  his  head 
blowed  off  and  is  paralyzed.  Don't  be  hard  on  us,  mis- 
ter. We've  done  nothing." 

"Where  are  the  other  two?  If  you  don't  tell  me  I'll 
hang  both  of  you  before  morning." 

The  old  woman  dropped  on  her  knees  and  clung  to 
Fryer's  legs  and  wailed: 

"Spare  us,  mister!  We  haven't  done  nothing. 
Don't  be  hard  on  a  poor  old  woman.  It's  only  this 
morning  we  helped  one  of  your  ladies  and  the  gentle- 
men with  her." 

"Who  were  they?  Where  were  they  going?"  asked 
Fryer. 

"I  don't  know  who  they  were,  but  they  were  fine 
folks." 

"Where  were  they  going?" 

"I — I  swar  I  don't  know,  mister.  Don't  be  hard  on 
us." 

"They  were  go — go — going  to  — er — er — Collins's," 
stammered  the  young  man,  struggling  hard  to  speak. 

"They  wer'n't,"  shouted  the  old  woman.  "You 
idiot — blast  you !" 

Rowley  entered. 

"There's  not  a  soul  in  the  house  but  those  two,"  he 
said. 


THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  FATE  26 1 

"Do  you  know  where  Collins's  is?"  asked  Fryer. 

"Collins?  Yes?  He's  a  forsworn  Tory.  Lives  on  the 
hill  beyond  Westfi eld.  What  of  him  ?" 

"I  believe  our  game  is  there  to-night." 

"No,  no,"  cried  the  old  woman;  "you're  wrong.  You 
wouldn't  believe  a  poor  idiot  like  him?"  pointing  to 
her  son. 

"Well,"  said  Fryer,  decisively,  "we're  goin'  to  see. 
If  you  tell  us  the  truth  it  will  go  easy  with  you  two.  If 
you  don't  you'll  hang  sure.  This  is  your  last  chance' 
if  you  want  it." 

"T — tell  them,  mother,"  sputtered  the  young  man, 
upon  whom  the  proceedings  were  having  a  demoraliz- 
ing effect. 

"Tell  nothing!"  cried  the  old  woman.  "I'd  sooner 
hang." 

"Wi — will  you  sp — spare  us  if  I — I — I  tell  you?" 
asked  the  young  man,  approaching  Fryer. 

"Don't  you  dare,  or  I'll  curse  you,"  cried  the  frantic 
woman. 

"Take  her  out,  Connor,"  commanded  Fryer. 

The  trooper  was  compelled  to  drag  Mrs.  Farr,  curs- 
ing and  struggling,  into  the  hallway.  Fryer  shut  the 
door  to  drown  her  cries. 

"Now,"  he  said,  addressing  the  paralytic,  "tell  us." 

"Wi — will  you  spare  us?     Her,  too?" 

"Yes.     Go  on." 

"They  h — have — have  go — gone  to  Co — Col — 
ins's." 

"After  that  lady  and  her  friends?" 


262  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

The  young  man  nodded  his  head. 

"Plunder,  eh?" 

"Sh — she's  rich,"  said  the  fellow,  with  evident  ad- 
miration. 

"No  doubt,"  ejaculated  Fryer.  "Come  on,  boys. 
Bring  that  chap  along." 

"What  shall  we  do  with  that  old  hag  outside  and 
this  cripple?"  asked  Rowley. 

"Lock  them  up  somewhere  in  Westfield  for  a  time. 
The  constable  will  care  for  them." 

The  village  was  about  a  mile  away.  The  distance 
was  quickly  covered,  although  part  of  the  road  climbed 
a  steep,  rolling  hill.  Ralph  enjoyed  the  excitement  of 
the  midnight  march,  and  told  Rowley  it  was  the  first 
bit  of  fun  that  had  fallen  to  him  for  months.  At  West- 
field  the  two  prisoners  were  committed  to  the  charge 
of  the  constable. 

"Have  you  heard  any  thing  of  the  British  moving 
along  the  Metuchen  road  to  Scotch  Plains?"  he  asked. 

"No.     Who  told  you  they  were?"  asked  Fryer. 

"A  couple  of  boys  who  passed  through  here  this 
evening  said  as  they  were." 

"Don't  believe  it,"  said  Fryer.  "They  were  hoax- 
ing you.  Howe's  got  tired  of  camping  in  Jersey,  and 
started  for  New  York  this  morning." 

"That  sounds  more  like  it,"  said  the  constable  slowly. 
"You  say  you  will  be  back  for  these  two?" 

"Yes,  in  a  few  hours.  You  know  Collins?  How  is 
he  acting  now?" 

"All  right  now.     Tame  as  a  lamb." 


THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  FATE  263 

"Have  you  heard  anything  of  the  company  he  has 
to-night?  A  girl  with  a  couple  of  fellows?" 

"Oh,  yes !  They  hired  a  rig  of  me  to  drive  over  to 
Morristown." 

"Who  are  they?"  asked  Fryer. 

"You  tell!  Blessed  if  I  can.  A  spry  lot.  They 
paid  all  right." 

"Aha !"  cried  Rowley,  "the  plot  deepens  now.  We've 
got  a  wench  in  it." 


CHAPTER   XXV. 
C4TRINJS   MESSENGER    PAID. 

COLLINS'S  house  stood  on  a  knoll  amid  a  plantation  of 
firs,  somewhat  nearer  to  Rahway  than  to  Westfield. 

Henry  Collins  was  a  loyalist  of  means.  He  had  been 
a  member  of  the  Council,  but  retired  a  few  years  before 
the  outbreak  of  war,  partly  on  account  of  age,  partly 
perhaps  in  order  to  take  his  leisure,  for  he  was  still  in 
vigorous  health,  despite  his  years.  He  was  a  widower 
with  two  daughters,  elderly  old  maids,  for  the  mar- 
riage of  whom  it  was  said  the  parent  offered  a  tempt- 
ing reward.  Every  year  rumor  increased  the  sum, 
until  finally  many  of  the  married  men  around  wondered 
why  it  was  ineffectual.  Collins  himself  was  a  tall,  si- 
lent, hard-fisted  man.  Though  his  neighbors  joked 
about  him  and  his  daughters  behind  his  back  he  said 
nothing,  but  superintended  the  tilling  of  his  fields, 
which  were  by  far  the  finest  in  the  county.  He  was  an 
indefatigable  worker,  a  taskmaster  who  spared  neither 
man  nor  beast.  At  eight  o'clock  every  evening  his 
house  was  closed  and  the  inmates  retired.  The  only 
suspicion  he  allowed  any  one  of  moments  of  relaxation 
was  derived  from  the  occasional  sight  of  him  driving 
home,  his  head  sunk  on  his  breast,  taciturnly  drunk, 


CATRINA'S  MESSENGER  PAID  26$ 

with  the  reins  loose  on  the  horse's  back.  No  one  dis- 
covered where  he  went  for  his  liquor,  but  the  old  gray 
horse,  who  knew  the  roads  like  a  dog,  was  always  a 
sign  to  people  that  the  master  was  bound  on  a  spirit- 
ous  expedition. 

When  Fryer  and  his  men  reached  the  house,  con- 
trary to  all  experience  it  was  ablaze  with  light.  In 
approaching  it  a  careful  search  had  been  made  of  every 
possible  hiding  place  where  the  Farrs  or  any  com- 
panions who  might  be  with  them  could  have  secreted 
themselves.  It  was  a  fruitless  effort,  the  purpose  of 
which  no  doubt  had  been  frustrated  by  the  unwonted 
gayety  within  the  house.  But  the  light  and  the  evi- 
dence of  life  at  that  late  hour  had  a  very  different  effect 
upon  the  disappointed  troops. 

"Shall  we  make  them  a  call  or  return  to  Westfield?" 
debated  Fryer. 

"Their  welcome  can't  be  less  hospitable  than  this 
empty  midnight,"  said  Rowley.  "There's  an  air  of 
food  about  the  place.  I've  no  prejudice  against  Tory 
mutton.  Have  you,  Ralph?" 

"No,  indeed,"  said  Ralph. 

"Well,  let's  try  it,"  concluded  Fryer. 

When  Fryer  knocked  at  the  door  it  was  opened  by  an 
elderly  woman,  who  regained  her  tongue  only  when 
her  master  from  within  an  adjacent  room  demanded : 

"Who  is  it,  Kate?" 

"Soldiers !"  repeated  the  servant,  looking  at  the 
three  men  before  her. 

"Soldiers!"  exclaimed  Collins. 


266  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Ralph  heard  a  woman's  voice,  followed  immediately 
by  the  appearance  in  the  hall  of  the  master  of  the 
house,  accompanied  by  a  lady.  The  next  moment  two 
other  ladies  and  two  gentlemen  stepped  forth. 

"Continental  troops!"  exclaimed  Collins.  "What 
does  this  mean?" 

The  lady  who  first  appeared  placed  her  hand  on  Col- 
lins's  arm  and  gently  drew  him  back. 

"Why,  my  dear  Mr.  Collins,"  she  said,  with  the  pleas- 
antest  surprise  possible,  "are  you  so  astonished  these 
days  at  the  sight  of  a  soldier?  This  officer  will  explain 
his  mission  if  you  won't  keep  him  standing  with  his 
back  to  an  open  door." 

"Yes !  To  be  sure !  Come  in,  gentlemen,"  said  Col- 
lins awkwardly. 

The  party  reentered  the  parlor  with  Fryer,  Rowley 
and  Ralph. 

The  room  was  brightly  illuminated.  Its  prim, 
cold  furnishing  contrasted  strangely  with  the  laden 
supper  table,  from  which,  evidently,  the  unexpected 
knock  at  the  door  had  summoned  the  eaters. 

Rowley  was  immediately  attracted  to  the  young 
woman  who  had  so  far  taken  the  most  prominent  part 
in  the  reception.  As  their  eyes  met  she  encountered 
his  regard  without  the  slightest  appreciable  recogni- 
tion. Nevertheless,  there  was  in  her  glance  an  inde- 
finable suggestion  of  easy  familiarity. 

Her  name  was  Margaret  Curzon.  She  was  perhaps 
thirty  years  of  age,  tall  and  well  shaped.  Her  abun- 
dant dark  hair  was  rather  stiffly  drawn  over  a  narrow 


CATRINA'S  MESSENGER  PAID  267 

forehead  and  thence  down  behind  a  pair  of  exquisitely 
delicate  shell-like  ears.  Her  complexion  was  fresh  as 
a  cherry  blossom  and  her  small  red  lips  covered  a  fine 
set  of  teeth,  which  she  displayed  frequently  with  a  dry 
titter  that  often  served  her  in  place  of  words  and  in 
moments  of  nervousness.  Her  general  air  was  that  of 
a  grand  lady,  but  this  was  denied  perpetually  by  a 
subtle  contradiction  of  manner  and  tone. 

The  other  two  girls — Dorothy  and  Mary,  Mr.  Col- 
lins's  daughters — were  dried,  old-fashioned  specimens 
of  spinsterhood,  awkwardly  out  of  place  in  the  strange 
company  around  them. 

The  two  men,  a  Mr.  Spiers  and  a  Mr.  Roebuck,  were 
both  young  gentlemen  of  pretentious  manners  and  in- 
clined to  a  flashy  garrulousness.  There  seemed  to  be 
a  good-natured  understanding  between  them  that  the 
entertainment  their  host  had  provided  was  of  an  excep- 
tionally fine  sort  and  merited  their  constant  attention. 

Fryer  introduced  himself  and  his  two  companions  by 
name,  and  then  briefly  explained  to  Mr.  Collins  how 
their  intrusion  had  come  about.  Mrs.  Curzon  evinced 
the  highest  interest  in  the  narrative. 

"Damn  rogues,  those  Farrs!"  said  Collins  venom- 
ously. "They  ought  to  have  been  exterminated  long 
ago.  They  wouldn't  be  troubling  any  one  now  if  the 
numbskulls  around  here  had  listened  to  me." 

"What  a  dreadful  position !"  cried  Mrs.  Curzon,  put- 
ting her  hands  before  her  face  with  affected  alarm. 
"Perhaps  they're  staring  in  at  us  now  through  one  of 
these  open  windows.  I  suppose  even  a  murderer  has 


268  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

a  choice  about  victims.  Dear  me !  which  of  us  is  the 
tid-bit?" 

"There's  no  doubt  about  the  tid-bit,"  said  Rowley, 
laughing  in  his  loud  way,  "though  I'm  not  so  sure  of 
the  victim." 

"And  you're  a  doctor!"  said  the  woman,  glancing 
archly  at  Rowley.  At  the  same  time  she  was  studying 
Ralph,  who  stood  beside  the  doctor. 

"You  mustn't  ask  me  to  confess  my  misfortune  in 
public,"  said  Rowley. 

"And  you've  cut  people  up?" 

"Both  living  and  dead." 

"What  a  wretched  feeling  you  must  carry  around 
with  you.  I  hope  Mr.  Collins  will  give  you  a  seat  at 
the  other  side  of  the  table.  You  see,  Mr.  Tennant," 
she  whispered  loudly,  "I'm  gently  reminding  our  host 
of  his  duties." 

"How's  that?"  asked  Collins,  who  had  lost  himself 
for  a  moment  in  thought. 

"I  was  suggesting  that  we  all  resume  supper,"  said 
Mrs.  Curzon  in  a  delicate  tone  of  command. 

"You  think  that's  best?"  asked  Collins. 

"Why,  my  dear  man,  what  could  be  better?"  Then 
she  added,  gayly:  "The  balance  wasn't  quite  right  be- 
fore. Do  you  know  what  I  mean  by  'balance,'  Doctor? 
A  companionable  meal  is  like  a  good  see-saw,  isn't  it? 
goes  best  when  the  weights  are  even.  You've  played 
the  old  game,  haven't  you?" 

"Haven't  I?"  replied  Rowley,  boldly;  "and  if  you 
were  on  one  end,  madam,  and  I  on  the  other,  you  might 


CATRINrfS  MESSENGER  PAID  269 

remedy  any  little  deficiency  in  weight  by  creeping  a 
little  closer." 

"Doctor!'  she  exclaimed,  in  reproof. 

"Madam !" 

'Take  your  seat,  sir,  on  that  side  of  the  table,  where 
Mr.  Collins  can  reprove  you  if  you  transgress  again. 
I'll  give  Mr.  Tennant  a  place  at  my  side." 

Rowley  was  eager  to  get  to  the  table,  but  Fryer  de- 
murred. 

"My  men  are  outside,"  he  said,  addressing  Mr.  Col- 
lins, "and  I  hardly- 

"Soldiers  outside !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Curzon,  in  a  tone 
of  alarm.  "How  foolish !  To  be  sure !  Didn't  you 
tell  us?  No  wonder  I  saw  eyes  through  those  win- 
dows. Poor  fellows!  How  many  are  there?" 

"We  are  not  an  army,  only  a  dozen,"  said  Fryer,  a 
man  who  was  extremely  diffident  in  the  society  of 
women. 

"Bring  them  all  in!  Eh,  Mr.  Collins?"  asked  Mrs. 
Curzon. 

"As  you  say,"  muttered  Collins,  "but  are  you  think- 
ing—" 

"Bring  them  in!"  commanded  Mrs.  Curzon.  Then 
changing  to  her  playful  tone  she  continued :  "If  there 
isn't  enough  to  go  around  some  good  fellow  shall  have 
my  share — rations,  you  call  it,  don't  you?" 

Fryer  protested  against  intruding  too  far,  and  in  this 
he  was  joined  by  Rowley.  The  matter  was  settled  by 
the  men  being  summoned  to  the  barn,  where  Collins, 
at  the  dictation  of  Mrs.  Curzon,  ordered  a  meal  served. 


2/O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Then  the  host  and  his  guests  sat  down  to  the  un- 
finished supper. 

There  was  not  only  abundance  to  eat,  but  plenty  to 
drink,  and  in  a  short  time  Rowley  and  Mrs.  Curzon 
had  the  table  in  a  very  jolly  mood.  Even  old  Collins 
became  talkative.  The  two  old  maids  tittered  and 
giggled  at  the  rather  coarse  fun  of  the  two  young  men, 
who  pretended  to  make  love  to  them. 

Rowley  strove  to  understand  Mrs.  Curzon.  She  was 
evidently  the  centre  of  the  situation.  Plainly  she 
was  playing  a  part  with  him.  Was  she  merely 
a  flirt,  a  woman  openly  in  search  of  admiration  at  any 
risk?  The  Doctor  had  a  full  share  of  vanity  and  was 
ready  enough  for  an  adventure,  out  there  was  some- 
thing public  in  this  invitation  quite  inexplicable  in  the 
light  of  his  past  experiences.  However,  lie  was  not  a 
man  to  allow  the  ball,  whatever  it  meant,  to  be  tossed 
to  his  side  without  endeavoring  to  return  it. 

"Doctor,  please  uncross  those  knives,"  she  said  with 
a  shudder.  "Do  you  know  I'm  terribly  superstitious? 
Tell  me  a  cure  for  it." 

Marriage  or  any  other  commonsense  thing." 

"Oh,  I've  tried  that  old  remedy,"  she  said,  tossing 
back  her  head.  "That's  commonplace,  not  common 
sense.  I  thought  you'd  suggest  something  new. 
Really,  Doctor,  my  life  is  made  miserable  by  supersti- 
tion. I  can't  see  a  pin  without  picking  it  up,  nor  spill 
salt  without  throwing  some  over  my  shoulder,  nor  go 
under  a  ladder,  nor  put  on  my  stockings  in  the  morn- 
ing " 


CATKIN 'A1 S  MESSENGER  PAID 

"What  fatality  is  attached  to  that  innocent  and  in- 
teresting proceeding?"  asked  Rowley,  laughing. 

"Don't  you  know?"  she  asked,  innocently. 

"No,  indeed!" 

"I  thought  everybody  knew.  You  know  you 
mustn't  dress  one  foot  completely  before  you've  put 
something  on  the  other." 

"As  you  have  made  this  a  professional  consultation, 
pray  tell  me  how  you  get  over  the  difficulty?" 

Rowley's  eyes  were  twinkling  at  his  own  audacity, 
but  Mrs.  Curzon  was  a  match  for  him. 

"Oh!"  she  said,  in  the  most  innocent  way.  "First 
I  put  on  my  left  stocking,  then  my  right  stocking,  then 
my  left  shoe,  then  my  right." 

"Excellent!"  exclaimed  Rowley.  "And  I'm  safe, 
despite  my  ignorance!  My  practice,  though,  is  quite 
the  reverse  of  yours,  but  it  goes  a  little  further,  to  in- 
sure greater  safety." 

"How  is  that?"  she  asked  with  an  arch  challenge. 

"Well,"  replied  the  Doctor,  soberly.  "I  first  put  on 
my  right,  mark  you,  my  right,  stocking,  then  my  left, 
then  my  right  boot,  then  my  left;  then  my  right  gar- 
ter  " 

Here  Rowley  broke  down  and  burst  into  uproarious 
laughter. 

"You  see,"  he  cried,  "my  plan  is  more  extensive  than 
yours." 

"You  mean,  sir,  your  capacity  for  description  carries 
you  to  greater  lengths." 

"No,"  said  the  Doctor,  scratching  his  head.     "I'm 


272  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

a  plain  man,  and  don't  believe  in  leaving  anything  to 
the  imagination." 

"He's  outrageous!  Isn't  he,  Mr.  Tennant?  By  the 
way,  you  are  of  Col.  Clarkin's  regiment?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Ralph,  surprised  that  this  woman, 
who  had  paid  him  so  little  attention,  should  ask  that 
question.  "What  makes  you  ask?" 

"Nothing,"  she  replied,  indifferently.  "I  wasn't 
quite  certain  I  heard  Lieut.  Fryer  correctly.  Besides, 
when  the  Doctor  leaves  us  in  the  morning  I  want  to 
be  sure  of  his  address,  in  case  my  case  should  grow 
worse." 

"I'm  afraid  it's  a  prescription  you  need  more  than  a 
doctor's  address,"  said  Rowley,  boldly. 

"You  shall  write  one  for  me  in  the  morning?" 

"In  the  morning!"  said  Rowley.  "I  am  afraid  I'll 
be  over  the  hills  and  far  away  then,  as  the  song  runs." 

"Do  you  tire  so  soon  of  our  entertainment?  I  took 
you  for  a  more  gallant  man,  Doctor.  To  leave  me  in 
.  What  do  you  call  it?" 

"In  the  lurch?"  he  suggested. 

"Indeed!"  she  went  on.  "We  are  only  beginning 
the  night.  Mr.  Collins,  I  am  afraid  our  guests  are 
getting  dry,  and  Miss  Dorothy  might  give  us  some 
music.  Who  sings?  Do  you,  Doctor?  Ah,  I  know 
you  do.  There's  music  in  your  voice.  He  sings, 
doesn't  he,  Mr.  Tennant?  I  am  sure  I  can  get  the 
truth  from  you." 

It  was  plain  the  lady  was  set  upon  making  a  night  of 
it.  She  would  accept  no  refusal.  She  spurred  Mr. 


CATRINA"S  MESSENGER  PAID  273 

Collins  to  press  his  guests  to  remain,  and  not  count 
the  hours.  Mr.  Spiers,  a  red-haired  little  man,  said  in 
a  lame  way: 

"It  is  all  so  jolly  it  would  be  a  shame  to  break  up." 
Mrs.  Curzon  cajoled  the  Doctor,  declared  she  must 
have  a  dance  with  him.  All  doctors  danced  elegantly. 
She  wanted  to  hear  Ralph  sing.  Their  unexpected 
visit  was  a  perfect  god-send  to  lonely  company  shut  up 
in  a  country  house.  She  appealed  to  Mr.  Collins 
whether  that  wasn't  so,  and  the  host  replied  he  sup- 
posed so.  What  was  another  hour  or  two,  she  asked 
gayly;  no  one  could  miss  it.  Then  she  trilled  in  a  high 
falsetto  voice : 

The  hour  that  we  steal  from  the  night,  my  love, 
Is  an  hour  that  we  give  to  the  day. 

She  suggested  more  grog.  Lieut.  Fryer  should  mix 
it  this  time.  She  was  sure  there  was  some  military 
recipe  for  the  drink,  a  species  of  tradition  which  never 
deserted  the  ranks. 

Rowley  supported  her  high  spirits  to  the  utmost. 
He  had  drunk  enough  to  be  reckless,  and  the  air  of 
abandon  that  had  fallen  upon  the  party  conquered  him 
completely.  Fryer  and  Ralph  succumbed  to  it  in  turn, 
and  soon  everybody,  including  even  the  two  old  maids, 
were  given  over  to  a  feverish  hilarity.  Rowley  sang, 
Ralph  sang,  old  Collins  resurrected  the  remnant  of  a 
voice  and  croaked  with  a  great  deal  of  pride  a  number 
of  ancient  glees.  The  two  young  men  rendered  some 
comic  songs,  and  Miss  Dorothy  played  the  harpsichord 
indefatigably.  Every  one  was  in  an  exhausted  and 


274  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

half-befuddled  condition  when  the  first  light  of  day- 
break dawned  in  the  east.  The  fresh  morning  air,  filled 
with  the  twittering  of  the  awakening  birds,  came  in 
through  the  windows  and  dispelled  the  spirit  of  the 
revelry. 

"We  really  mus'  be  going,"  said  Fryer  unsteadily 
for  the  twentieth  time.  He  was  sitting  on  the  sofa 
half  asleep. 

"No,  no,"  cried  Mrs.  Curzon  eagerly.  "At  any  rate 
not  until  the  daytime.  We'll  breakfast  and  then  part. 
Eh,  Doctor?" 

"Fair  enchantress!"  exclaimed  Rowley,  rolling  to- 
ward Mrs.  Curzon,  with  his  hand  placed  over  his  heart. 
"Who — who  shall  deny  you?  Breakfast!  Command 
us !  Lead  on !  I'll  follow  you  to  the  la — st  dish — ditch." 

"Did  your  lips  stumble  onto  the  truth  then,  Doctor? 
Dish  or  ditch,  which  is  it?" 

"Both,  my  fair,  so  long  as  you " 

The  sentence  was  interrupted  by  a  shot,  followed  by 
a  discharge  of  musketry.  The  firing  was  so  close  to 
the  windows  that  the  smell  of  gunpowder  quickly  filled 
the  room.  Fryer,  Rowley  and  Ralph  fled  to  the  door 
and  were  met  by  a  number  of  inrushing  British  troops. 

"Treachery!"  cried  Fryer,  as  he  and  his  two  com- 
panions were  roughly  seized. 

"At  last !"  cried  Mrs.  Curzon,  as  she  dropped  into  a 
chair.  "I  thought  they  would  never  come." 

A  few  minutes  later  Lord  Cornwallis  and  a  brilliant 
company  of  officers  entered.  With  them  was  White- 
head  Hicks.  Ralph  was  standing  against  the  wall  in 


CATKIN  A1  S  MESSENGER  PAID 

the  hall  between  two  grenadiers.  As  Hicks  brushed 
past  him,  with  a  superb  air  of  triumph,  he  said : 

"I  hope  Miss  Rutherford's  messenger  is  satisfied 
with  his  payment." 

It  was  a  clear  confession  of  a  plot,  but  victim  as  he 
was  of  it  Ralph  could  not  see  the  machinery  of  the  trap 
that  had  caught  him.  Had  he  been  within  the  parlor 
and  overheard  the  hurried  words  between  his  enemy 
and  Mrs.  Curzon  he  would  have  understood. 

"I  thought  you  would  never  come,"  said  the  woman 
as  Hicks  bent  over  her. 

"You  managed  well.  You're  a  great  girl.  He 
swallowed  the  letter?" 

"No,"  she  said  in  a  tired  way.  "The  letter  never 
reached  him.  It  was  all  accident.  The  devil  worked 
for  you." 

"Don't  call  yourself  names,"  said  Hicks  laughing. 
"No  matter  how  gained,  I'm  your  debtor." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 
IN  THE  ENEMT'S  HANDS. 

CHANCE  certainly  had  played  cruelly  against  Ralph. 
In  every  detail  Hicks's  plan  to  ensnare  him  had  failed 
except  in  the  result.  The  letter  purporting  to  be  from 
Catrina,  which  he  had  concocted  for  Mrs.  Curzon  to 
carry  to  Morristown,  had  failed  of  delivery.  Although 
Ralph  did  visit  the  appointed  trysting  place  he  was  not 
unaccompanied  as  directed.  The  British  troops  en 
route  to  attack  Lord  Stirling  were  hours  late  in  setting 
out,  and  even  later  in  passing  the  Collins  House,  never- 
theless Hicks's  triumph  was  complete.  Save  for  that 
momentary  passage  in  the  hallway,  Ralph  saw  nothing 
of  his  enemy,  but  he  felt  constantly  the  vicious  pressure 
of  his  hand. 

Ralph  and  his  fellow  prisoners  of  war  were  sent  to 
Amboy.  A  few  days  later  they  were  transported  with 
the  entire  British  army  to  New  York.  On  arriving  in 
the  city  they  were  marched  up  Broadway,  passing 
within  sight  of  Mrs.  Heathcote's  home,  to  the  new  jail 
where  Cunningham  was  provost  marshal.  Hicks's 
hope,  no  doubt,  was  that  Ralph  would  be  incarcerated 
in  that  pitiless  prison,  but  when  Fryer's  little  troop,  in- 


IN  THE  ENEMTS  HANDS  277 

creased  greatly  by  other  captures,  arrived  before  its 
ominous  doors  it  was  so  full,  even  in  the  inhuman  cal- 
culations of  the  authorities,  that  only  twenty  men  of 
the  batch  were  taken  in.  The  remainder  were  faced 
about  and  distributed  among  the  other  prisons  in  the 
city.  Fryer  and  most  of  Clarkin's  men  were  locked  up 
in  the  New  Dutch  Church.  Ralph  and  Rowley  and 
three  others  were  lodged  for  one  night  in  the  Rhine- 
lander  sugar  house,  and  then  transferred  to  the  prison 
ship  Jersey.  The  jail  was  probably  more  comfortable 
than  the  ship,  if  I  dare  speak  of  degrees  at  all  in  con- 
nection with  these  pest  holes,  but  certainly  in  the  latter 
Ralph  was  spared  the  effect  of  Hicks's  direct  influence, 
which,  no  doubt,  would  have  been  exerted  through 
Cunningham. 

The  Jersey  was  an  old  dilapidated  hulk  that  had  been 
battered  in  battle  with  the  French  fleet.  She  was 
originally  a  sixty-four  gun  ship.  She  had  been  stripped 
of  figurehead,  masts  and  rigging,  and  lay  anchored  like 
a  rotting  derelict  near  the  tide-race,  a  short  distance 
above  the  Brooklyn  ferry.  She  had  already  acquired 
a  ghastly  reputation.  Filth  and  Pestilence,  Despair 
and  Death  were  the  most  tireless  members  of  the  guard 
that  day  and  night  watched  over  crowded  decks.  Other 
sentinels  came  and  went,  but  these  ghostly  sentries  re- 
mained at  their  posts. 

Ralph  and  Rowley  were  put  aboard  early  in  the  fore- 
noon. They  found  they  were  numbered  with  about  a 
thousand  other  unfortunates,  who  packed  the  deck  so 
densely  that  it  was  well-nigh  impossible  to  take  a  step 


2/8  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

without  jostling  some  one.  Hot  as  the  noonday  sun 
was,  the  fierce  striking  heat  was  preferable,  as  the  new 
comers  soon  learned,  to  the  stench  and  suffocating  at- 
mosphere below.  Rowley  squeezed  a  way  through  the, 
crowd,  and  Ralph  followed  him  to  the  old  quarterdeck. 
Then  they  turned  and  surveyed  their  situation. 

The  heat  quivered  in  the  air.  It  burned  the  eyes. 
It  fell  like  the  breath  of  something  molten  on  the  backs 
of  the  crowded  mass  of  men.  It  was  reflected  from 
every  surface,  from  threadbare  coats  and  from  the  pale 
skins  of  disease-stricken  faces. 

On  the  quarterdeck  were  a  few  persons,  evidently 
visitors.  They  gazed  at  the  sight  below  with  the  in- 
terest of  spectators  watching  wild  beasts  in  captivity. 
Some  one,  perhaps  $lit  of  pity^  ordered  a  bag  of  apples 
thrown  to  the  prisoners,  and, then  ensued  a  scramble 
so  hideous  in  its  ravenous  intensity  that  Ralph  and 
Rowley,  in  dismay,  pressed  back  hard  against  the  deck- 
house, fearful  of  being  trampled  under  foot.  When  the 
surging  had  subsided,  Rowley  turned  to  Ralph: 

"Well?"  he  said,  tightening  his  lips. 

"Well?"  repeated  Ralph. 

Neither  could  say  more. 

A  lank  individual  standing  beside  them  munching 
an  apple  asked : 

"You're  new  fellows  here,  I  reckon?" 

"New!"  exclaimed  Rowley.  "It's  more  like  forty 
years  already!" 

"Wait  till  you've  been  here  five  months,  as  I  have, 
and  had  dysentery  twice  and  smallpox." 


IN  THE  ENEMTS  HANDS 

There  was  a  sardonic  note  of  superiority  in  the 
speech. 

"I'm  glad  you  feel  like  bragging,"  said  Rowley,  an- 
grily. "I  don't  covet  the  honor." 

"It  is  something,  though,"  said  the  fellow,  indiffer- 
ently, spitting  out  the  core  of  his  apple.  "Wait  till  you 
see  the  corpses  go  over  in  the  morning.  Somehow  it 
isn't  the  healthiest  that  stand  it." 

"Gosh!"  cried  Rowley,  speaking  to  Ralph.  "I  un- 
derstand now  what  Job  got  out  of  his  comforters !" 

But  if  the  day  was  painful  the  night  was  hideous.  At 
eveningfall  the  prisoners  were  sent  between  decks  and 
battened  down  with  iron  gratings.  There  were  no 
lights  and  the  square-barred  portholes  admitted  only  a 
faint  phosphorescence.  Ralph  and  Rowley  found  them- 
selves wedged  in  an  unseen  crowd  of  beings  that 
jostled,  yelled  and  cursed  like  demons  in  the  darkness. 
It  was  useless  to  struggle.  Indeed,  at  the  moment, 
neither  had  much  feeling  for  a  fight.  Dejection  was 
the  first  symptom  of  the  prison  disease,  and  its  last 
stage  hardened  indifference.  Between  the  two  was  the 
relief  of  death. 

When  the  struggle  subsided  sufficiently  our  two 
friends  sank  down  to  a  place  for  themselves  on  the  floor 
of  the  deck.  Pressed  against  them  were  unknown 
forms.  The  air  was  too  suffocating  for  sleep.  The 
lungs  panted,  the  blood  throbbed  in  the  brain.  The 
heat  was  insufferable.  The  stench  was  like  some  solid 
infiltration.  Yelling  of  various  kinds  was  kept  up  pur- 
posely for  hours.  Slowly  as  the  hours  wore  along  a 


28O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

tragic  peace  settled  down  upon  the  prison  crew  like  the 
waters  closing  over  drowning  men.  But  even  the  final 
quiet  was  occasionally  broken. 

"Thief !  Look  out !  I've  lost  something !"  cried  some- 
body. 

Instantly  there  was  commotion  amid  the  mass  of  in- 
cumbent forms.  Every  one  was  feeling  for  his  few 
possessions. 

Presently  the  man  who  had  raised  the  alarm  cried : 

"All  right,  I've  found  it." 

"What  was  it?"  yelled  a  voice. 

"Only  my  pillow.     It  got  into  my  ear !" 

Laughter  and  hooting  rose  again. 

Several  times  Ralph  thought  the  stillness  at  last  was 
permanent,  and  tried  to  keep  his  eyes  closed,  but  re- 
peatedly someone  disturbed  it. 

"Cobb's  gone  mad !  Look  out !  He's  got  a  knife !" 
was  the  final  cry. 

Delirium  was  no  uncommon  visitor  to  distracted 
minds.  Half  the  sleepers  jumped  to  their  feet  in  terror. 
What  was  written  on  their  faces  the  darkness  hid,  but 
their  horror-stricken  feelings  of  expectancy  seemed  for 
a  moment  to  electrify  the  air.  But  this  time  the  alarm 
was  false,  and  as  midnight  settled  without  over  the 
quiet  city  the  silence  of  exhaustion  and  disease  reigned 
on  the  Jersey. 

It  required  three  days  to  dull  the  acute  sense  of  hor- 
ror that  these  scenes  created  in  Ralph  and  Rowley.  The 
two  were  so  overpowered  by  the  situation  in  which  they 
found  themselves  that  they  passed  the  days  almost 


IN  THE  ENEMY'S  HANDS  28 1 

mutely  with  one  another.  Both  felt  it  utterly  useless 
to  discuss  their  position  or  denounce  the  cruelty  of  it. 
The  indefinite  prospect  before  them  seemed  intolerable 
and  morning  after  morning,  as  they  saw  the  sick  or  the 
dead  carried  away  they  wondered  in  what  manner  they 
themselves  would  finally  disembark. 

Rowley  did  one  afternoon  set  out  on  what  he  called 
a  tour  of  inspection.  Thinking  had  become  oppressive 
and  he  was  seeking  relief  in  activity. 

"I  want  to  study  where  we  are,  and  find  out  who's 
aboard.  Do  you  want  to  come?" 

"No,"  Ralph  replied.     "Are  you  getting  desperate?" 

"For  the  last  half-hour  I've  been  looking  at  that 
baby-faced  sentry  there.  He's  got  so  used  to  this 
thing  that  he  doesn't  notice  it.  My  fingers  are  itching 
to  wring  his  neck;  I  mean  actually  wring  it." 

Rowley  went  through  the  motion  with  his  hand. 

"There's  a  strength  in  my  blood  now  that  could 
break  iron.  Is  it  a  sense  for  murder?  You  don't  have 
that  sort  of  feeling,  do  you?  I  can't  lay  down.  I'm 
like  an  old  rat;  I  must  gnaw  something." 

When  Rowley  returned  he  was  in  better  mood. 

"Did  you  meet  any  one  you  knew?"  asked  Ralph. 

"No,  but  some  one  I  was  glad  to  know.  I  tell  you, 
Ralph,  the  poorest  man  is  carrying  around  merchandise 
he  doesn't  know  how  to  use.  That's  why  moping 
doesn't  pay." 

"What  did  you  find?" 

"An  idea,  Ralph,  an  idea  with  a  twinkle,  the  merest 
twinkle,  of  daylight  in  it." 


282  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Tell  me,"  suggested  Ralph. 

"No,  not  yet.  I  must  think  it  over.  It's  useless  in 
its  present  condition.  I  got  it  from  the  queerest  little 
pardieuing  Frenchman.  He  has  just  got  over  the 
yellow  fever.  When  he  found  I  was  a  doctor  he  poured 
out  his  tale  of  how  they  maltreated  him  yonder  on  one 
of  those  hospital  ships.  Before  I  got  through  with  him 
I  had  caught  his  disease " 

"Yellow  fever?"  cried  Ralph. 

"No,  the  shrug  of  the  shoulders.  I  swear  I  don't 
think  my  eyebrows  are  straight  yet.  When  he  finished 
I  couldn't  help  saying,  'Eet — is — ter — reeble !'  That 
started  him  afresh.  He  threw  his  arms  around  me  and 
told  me  of  an  'ange,'  or  something  of  that  kind — but  I 
guess  it's  a  woman — left  behind  at  Aix-le-Bains,  in 
Savoy." 

After  this  Ralph  noticed  that  Rowley  spent  much  of 
his  time  pondering  something  and  in  scrutinizing  every 
one  who  visited  the  Jersey. 

On  the  fourth  morning  a  deputy  purser  named  Willis 
came  aboard.  He  was  a  frequent  visitor — a  fat  little 
man  with  goggle  eyes,  who  strutted  around  with  an  air 
of  great  importance.  Rowley  had  spoken  to  him  once 
with  ill  success  at  first,  but  he  stuck  to  him  and  hu- 
mored him  until  the  fellow  had  said  as  he  departed : 

"If  there  is  ever  anything  I  can  do  for  you,  Doctor, 
of  course  I'll  be  glad  to." 

This  morning  he  was  standing  close  to  the  quarter- 
deck, not  far  from  the  post  where  Ralph  and  Rowley 
usually  stationed  themselves. 


IN  THE  ENEMY'S  HANDS  283 

Ralph  was  gazing  wistfully  over  the  bulwarks  to- 
ward the  Manhattan  shore  when  Rowley  leaned  over 
his  shoulder  and  whispered: 

"Don't  move  and  don't  look  around.  I  think  that 
amiable  friend  you've  told  me  of  is  on  the  deck  above 
scanning  the  crowd.  If  I'm  right,  he's  looking  for 
you.  He's  with  Admiral  Arbuthnot,  and  I'm  pretty 
sure  some  one  addressed  him  as  Mr.  Hicks." 

Ralph  started. 

"Keep  still !  He's  a  tall,  big  fellow,  clean-cut  face, 
dark  eyes,  quite  dressy." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Ralph,  eagerly. 

"He  hasn't  spotted  you  yet.  Keep  your  head  down. 
I  want  you  to  turn  around  suddenly.  If  it's  he  hail 
him  at  once  pleasantly." 

"For  Heavens- 

"Shutup!     Do  as  I  tell  you !     Do  it  friendly!" 

"I  can't,  Rowley!" 

"Go  on,  man;  play  the  part.     I  have  a  plan." 

"Plan!"  exclaimed  Ralph,  bitterly.  "Mighty  little 
good  any  plan  is  here." 

"Never  mind !  Do  as  I  tell  you,  quick !  Wave  your 
hand  to  him;  say,  'How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Hicks.  Hope 
you're  well.'  Hurry  up  now.  Much  may  depend  on 
it." 

With  this  he  gave  Ralph  a  pull  that  almost  turned 
him  around  facing  his  enemy  above.  The  suddenness 
of  the  move  deprived  Ralph  for  a  moment  of  possession 
of  himself.  His  eyes  met  Hicks's.  Instinctively  obey- 
ing Rowley's  orders,  he  hailed  him. 


284  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Hicks?     Are  you  well?" 
If  Ralph  was  surprised  at  his  own  act  Hicks  was 
fairly   dumfounded.     Involuntarily   the   old   habit  of 
speech  sprang  to  his  lips. 

"Ah,  my  boy,"  he  cried.  Then  he  added,  "I'm  glad 
you  take  things  so  easy." 

"How  are  you?"  asked  Ralph,  gaining  control  of 
himself. 

"Delightfully  well,  as  you  can  believe." 
"That's  good  news,"  said  Ralph,  now  enjoying  the 
audacity  of  the  play.     "How's  every  one?" 
"Splendid!"  said  Hicks,  enthusiastically. 
"I  hope  I  shall  see  you  again?" 
"I  shall  not  lose  sight  of  you,  don't  fear." 
The  sarcastic  ring  was  rising  in  Hicks's  voice. 
Rowley  pulled  Ralph  around. 

"Don't  stand  there  jabbering  with  those " 

Rowley  said  this  loudly  and  roughly,  as  he  jerked 
Ralph  away  to  the  centre  of  the  boat.  He  didn't  finish 
his  sentence,  but  when  he  was  out  of  earshot  he  whis- 
pered : 

"Immense!  I  had  to  stop  you,  Ralph,  for  fear 
another  word  would  spoil  it.  Stay  out  of  range  until 
he's  gone.  Remain  here.  I  must  leave  you  now  for 
the  second  act.  I'll  be  back  soon." 

For  the  first  time  since  they  came  aboard  Rowley's 
spirits  were  jubilant.  Ralph  hadn't  the  faintest  idea 
of  his  plan.  Whatever  it  was  this  last  phase  of  it  must 
have  been  a  momentary  inspiration,  for  it  was  impos- 
sible that  Rowley's  moody  cogitations  of  the  past  few 


IN  THE  ENEMY'S  HANDS  285 

days  or  his  scrappy  chats  with  his  fellow  prisoners  had 
led  him  to  contemplate  any  action  with  Hicks.  Ralph 
watched  him  press  through  the  crowd  till  he  reached 
Wills.  He  saw  him  lead  the  deputy  purser  aside,  and 
then  he  lost  sight  of  him.  It  was  useless  to  speculate 
upon  his  companion's  scheme,  which  Ralph  felt  must 
be  utterly  vain,  and  he  turned  his  eyes  to  Hicks.  The 
sleek,  jaunty  and  superior  air  of  his  enemy  worked 
upon  him  like  acid,  and  he  felt  rising  that  sense  of  mur- 
der Rowley  had  spoken  of. 

"You  devil !"  he  thought,  "shall  I  ever  be  quits  with 
you?  By  G — d,  if  I  get  a  chance  at  you  it  shall  be  for 
a  bigger  stake  than  you  ever  gambled  for  before." 

He  watched  Hicks  as  he  was  rowed  ashore,  and 
traces  of  the  hate  must  have  lingered  in  Ralph's  eyes, 
for  Rowley,  returning  at  that  moment,  asked: 

"What's  the  matter,  Ralph?" 

"I  feel  as  you  did  about  that  sentry." 

"Towards  his  Highness,  eh?" 

"Yes.  It's  terrible,  Rowley,  when  another  human 
being  affects  you  like  a  burning  iron." 

"Good !  Let  the  iron  work !  Press  against  it !  I 
want  you  to  keep  there  for  a  time.  Tell  me,  would  you 
kill  him?" 

"Fairly?     Yes." 

"Bah!  Fairly!  Has  he  been  fair?  Are  we  here 
fairly?  Damn  your  soft  ringers !  I  owe  him  much  less 
than  you  do,  and  yet  if  he  was  within  striking  distance 
of  me  now  I'd  die  if  I  couldn't  grind  my  heel  in  his  face. 
Be  a  man! 


286  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"I  shan't  be  less  if  I  ever  meet  him." 

"That  sounds  better.  Let's  get  into  that  corner 
where  I  can  whisper  to  you.  Now  listen.  You  under- 
stand there's  little  chance  for  us  if  we  stay  in  this  hell- 
hole." 

"Mighty  little,"  Ralph  assented. 

"There  are  thousands  of  corpses  on  that  shore  yon- 
der under  four  inches  of  sand.  That's  the  risk  we  run 
if  we  stay." 

"If  we  stay!"  exclaimed  Ralph.  "I  didn't  know 
they'd  given  us  much  choice." 

"It  isn't  what  they  give  us;  it's  what  we  can  take." 

"Oh!  this  is  your  plan?" 

"I'm  coming  to  it,  and  it's  a  good  one,  with  just  this 
little  danger  attached  to  it — we  may  get  a  bullet 
through  our  heads." 

"That's  a  small  matter,"  laughed  Ralph. 

"But  when  you  play  for  a  win  on  chance,  my  boy, 
you  must  take  your  chances.  Ninety-nine  points  in 
your  favor  and  still  you  may  be  defeated  by  the  hun- 
dredth, ninety-nine  against  you,  and  the  one  may  let 
you  through." 

"Is  it  so  desperate  as  that?"  asked  Ralph. 

"Not  quite,"  said  Rowley;  "but  there's  a  fine  touch 
of  the  desperate  in  it.  It  began  with  that  Frenchman 
I  told  you  of.  He  was  telling  me  what  a  scurvy  lot 
these  Englishmen  are  and  how  they  bled  the  little 
money  he  had  from  him  on  the  hospital  ship.  'Are 
they  that  bad?'  says  I.  'Are  they!  They  sell  every- 
thing, even  la  mort,'  says  he  in  his  broken  lingo.  'Ex- 


IN  THE  ENEMTS  H4NDS  287 

cept  freedom/  I  said,  correcting  him.  'There's  a  price 
for  that,  too,'  he  sighed.  'Expensive,  I  suppose?'  I 
said.  'A  hundred  pounds,'  he  said,  'is  what  the  little 
lobster-eyed  man  asked.' ' 

"The  deputy  purser?"  exclaimed  Ralph. 

"The  same,"  said  Rowley.  "It  appears  when  he 
found  the  Frenchman  had  money  he  dropped  him  the 
hint." 

"Why  didn't  he  accept?"  asked  Ralph. 

"The  other  fellows  hadn't  left  him  enough.  And  be- 
tween us,  Ralph,  neither  have  we,  for  two.  That  is  the 
point  that's  been  worrying  me.  Do  you  see  now  why 
I  asked  you  to  do  the  friendly  to  Hicks  this  morning  in 
the  presence  of  Wills.  I  wanted  to  make  an  effect  on 
Mr.  Deputy-Purser." 

"And?" " 

"So  far  everything  is  fine.  I  took  him  on  one  side 
and  hinted  to  him  in  the  pleasantest  way  that  he  was 
about  to  lose  one  of  his  guests.  I  asked  him  if  he  had 
seen  the  gentleman  who  had  hailed  you.  I  told  him  he 
was  trustee  of  your  estate — wealthy,  friend  of  the  Ad- 
miral's, friend  of  everybody.  You  had  merely  gone 
off  on  an  adventure  after  a  girl.  You  understand? 
Then  I  suggested  there  \vas  money  laying  around  for 
some  one,  and  it  was  a  pity  it  should  not  go  to  the  right 
party.  He  was  shy  at  first,  but  by  and  by  he  asked 
how  much.  'Perhaps  £500,'  I  said. 

"Five  hundred  pounds !"  cried  Ralph. 

"It  was  as  easy  to  be  rich,  Ralph,  as  poor.  The 
amount  dazzled  him." 


288  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"It  does  me.     We  haven't  got  it." 

"We've  more  than  a  hundred,  though,  and — damn 
it,  think  of  it,  Ralph — you  can  give  him  a  draft  on 
Hicks  for  the  rest." 

Ralph  laughed  outright. 

"Lord,  I'd  give  anything  to  be  there  when  that 
draft's  presented,"  said  Rowley,  joining  in  the  laugh. 
"But  look  here,  this  afternoon  he  is  coming  to  you  for 
the  money.  Mind,  I've  spoken  only  of  your  escape." 

"Without  you !" 

"That's  it  exactly.  I  knew  you'd  take  it  that  way. 
Show  him  the  money  and  the  draft  and  I'll  leave  it  to 
you  to  bargain  me  in." 

"I  wouldn't  go  alone,  Rowley." 

"Good!  tell  him  so.  It's  as  easy  for  him  to  man- 
age two  as  one,  and  he'll  see  it,  particularly  as  I  have 
hinted  to  him  that  others  are  after  your  cash." 

"But  suppose  he  goes  to  Hicks?" 

"He  hasn't  got  the  draft  yet,  has  he?  I  haven't  even 
told  him  of  it.  He  doesn't  know  Hicks's  name,  and 
he  won't  until  you  tell  him.  He'll  be  on  duty  then." 

"In  the  meantime  he  may  find  out." 

"That's  our  risk.  We  won't  be  any  worse  off. 
When  you  see  him,  mind,  be  independent.  Treat  my 
plan  as  though  it  were  an  intrusion.  Indeed,  perhaps 
you've  half  made  other  arrangements.  Who  knows? 
I  don't."  Rowley  winked  and  began  to  whistle. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  Rowley  brought  Wills  over  to 
Ralph. 

"Mr.  Tennant,"  said  Rowley,  "this  gentleman  has 


IN  THE  ENEMTS  HANDS  289 

been  more  courteous  to  me  than  others,  and  you'll  do 
me  a  great  favor  if  you  can  in  any  way  thank  him  for 
it." 

With  this  Rowley  walked  away.  Wills  was  eager 
enough  for  a.  bargain,  but  he  strongly  demurred  to  the 
suggestion  of  the  benefits  being  shared  by  another. 

"Never  mind,  then,"  said  Ralph,  indifferently.  "If 
you  can't  see  your  way  I'd  rather  leave  matters  as  they 
are.  One  or  two,  the  risk  is  the  same.  Besides,  my 
friend  was  somewhat  extravagant  with  my  £500." 

The  mention  of  the  amount  stirred  the  fellow's  cu- 
pidity. 

"As  you  say,"  he  said,  dubiously,  "whether  it's  one 
or  two  perhaps  makes  little  difference." 

When  Ralph  was  proceeding  to  produce  the  money 
Rowley  joined  them. 

The  draft  proved  to  be  a  serious  objection.  For  a 
moment  it  seemed  as  though  the  negotiations  had 
failed. 

"Do  you  expect  any  man  to  carry  around  £500?" 
asked  Rowley.  "Don't  lose  a  good  chance.  The  other 
fellow  is  willing  enough  and  the  money's  sure.  I  have 
no  doubt  Mr.  Hicks  is  arranging  the  matter  without  a 
penny,  and  Mr.  Tennant  is  partly  for  waiting.  You 
can  come  with  us  if  you  like,  and  get  the  money. 
There's  no  harm  in  telling  you  it's  straight  to  Mr. 
Hicks  we  are  going." 

Rowley's  persuasions  succeeded  in  the  end,  due,  no 
doubt,  to  the  fellow's  fear  that  if  he  refused  he  might 
be  putting  away  an  unusual  gain.  He  had  witnessed 


I9O  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

idea  Ralph  could  be  so  astute.  Really,  I  think  he 
pulled  the  wool  completely  over  the  old  fox's  eyes. 
Perhaps  this  was  due  to  the  fact  that  he  dropped  en- 
tirely the  subject  of  Johnson  and  those  northern 
events. 

Ralph  visited  me  often,  and  I  rejoiced  again  in  our 
companionship  which  now  became  very  steady;  but 
the  more  I  saw  of  my  friend,  the  more  I  detected  or 
thought  I  detected  a  certain — I  won't  say  a  false  note, 
but  a  certain  falseness  of  pitch.  There  was  a  strain 
somewhere,  which  resulted  in  frequent  forced  gayety, 
succeeded  by  hours  of  black  dejection. 

With  Helen,  and  of  course  I  saw  much  of  her,  he  was 
invariably  thoughtful  and  kind,  but  it  struck  me — dare 
I  say  it? — there  was  a  very  little  bit  of  earnest  acting 
in  it. 

The  change  of  scene,  the  new  life,  the  impressive 
company  with  which  Mrs.  Heathcote  filled  her  house, 
were  all  very  agreeable  to  Helen.  She  told  me  it 
pleased  her  more  than  she  anticipated. 

"But  it  is  such  a  useless  life,"  she  complained,  as 
though  the  complaint  justified  her  in  sharing  it. 

To  Ralph  the  life  was  intolerable. 

"But  what  to  do,  Alex!"  he  exclaimed  hopelessly. 
"Helen  is  becoming  more  Whiggish  every  day,  until 
now  she  is  an  inveterate  enemy  of  the  government. 
And  I,  well,  I  am  more  indifferent  than  ever.  Do  you 
know,  if  it  wasn't  for  Helen  I  believe  I'd  clear  out  of 
the  country  somehow.  I  wish  one  of  those  vessels 
that  arrived  in  the  bay  this  morning  would  take  me  off. 


THE  POWER  OF  AN  AFFINITY  IQI 

As  I  watched  them  come  to  anchor  and  furl  their  sails 
they  seemed  positively  to  call  me.  The  best  step  I 
suppose  is  to  go  back  to  the  Manse." 

"You  couldn't  do  better,  Ralph,"  I  hinted. 

"I  know,"  he  sighed;  "Alex,  the  devil  of  unrest  is  in 
me." 

"Exorcise  him !"  I  said. 

"With  what  charm,  oh!  magician?" 

"Hard  work  is  a  good  medicine." 

"Aching  sinews,  eh?    Well,  that  would  be  better." 

When  he  was  in  these  moods  he  would  sit  sometimes 
for  hours  with  an  open  book  on  his  knees  in  a  deep 
chair  in  a  corner  of  the  Heathcote  parlor.  There  he 
esconced  himself  after  he  left  me  that  afternoon. 

The  ladies  were  busy  upstairs.  The  fire  crackled 
and  as  the  winter  day  died  its  early  death,  the  glow  of 
the  embers  crept  further  and  further  out  into  the  dark- 
ening room.  The  house  was  very  still.  The  snow 
deadened  the  sounds  outside  in  the  street.  The  low 
croning  of  old  Dinah,  the  negress,  in  the  kitchen, 
exactly  harmonized  with  the  vague,  half-formulated 
thoughts  that  were  floating  in  Ralph's  head. 

No  doubt  he  heard  the  knocking  on  the  outer  door, 
but  he  paid  no  heed  to  it.  He  was  half  lost  until 
the  servant  opened  the  parlor  door  and  he  was  aroused 
by  hearing : 

"Step  in,  if  you  please.     I  will  tell  Mrs.  Heathcote." 

That  moment  was  the  last  of  the  twilight.  But  for 
the  pine  logs  the  furniture  would  have  been  merely 
so  many  shadowy  outlines. 


THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 


In  another  minute  a  light  could  be  seen  bobbing 
close  to  the  water. 

'They're  after  us,"  said  Rowley.  "Where  are  we? 
Never  mind.  Pull  inshore." 

Before  the  two  reached  the  New  York  shore  their 
pursuers  were  in  mid-stream  almost  opposite  the  land- 
ing where  Rowley  was  setting  his  boat  adrift. 

"They're  going  up-stream  a  bit  yet.  Good  !"  he 
whispered.  "Let's  run.  Put  this  pistol  in  your  pocket. 
There  were  a  couple  on  the  seat,  and  I  took  them." 

As  fast  as  their  feet  could  carry  them  Ralph  and 
Rowley  hastened  at  random  through  the  lanes.  They 
passed  few  houses  and  still  fewer  people,  and  in  a  short 
time  found  themselves  on  the  Bowery. 

Here  they  halted. 

"It's  fatal  to  go  north,"  said  Rowley.  "There  are 
outposts  there.  If  we  are  seen  these  rebel  rags  will 
undo  us.  We  must  get  rid  of  them  somehow.  How?" 

"There's  my  Aunt,"  suggested  Ralph.  "She  could 
help  us.  But  if  they  search  anywhere  it's  likely  to  be 
there." 

"Still  no  one  would  think  of  that  but  Hicks.  He 
won't  know  till  morning.  All  we  need  is  an  hour  or 
two  and  a  change.  The  rest  we  can  manage." 

Nothing  better  could  be  though  of.  In  truth  Ralph 
felt  right  glad  when  they  slipped  through  the  familiar 
wicket-gate  at  the  end  of  the  back  garden  and  knocked 
at  the  kitchen  door  of  Mrs.  Heathcote's. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 
CATRINA  PATS   THE  RANSOM. 

DINAH  answered  the  summons. 

"For  the  Lord's  sake,  Mr.  Ralph!"  was  her  greet- 
ing. 

"Not  a  word,  Dinah,"  said  Ralph,  as  he  squeezed  her 
rough,  black  hand.  "Keep  your  eyes  and  your  lips 
shut.  You  haven't  seen  me,  mind.  This  gentleman 
and  I  have  escaped  from  the  prison  ship.  We  must 
make  haste  away.  Where's  Aunt?" 

The  old  woman  was  shaking  with  excitement. 

"Missus  is  in  the  parlor,  I  guess,  with  Miss  Catrina." 

"Come  along,  Rowley." 

Ralph  led  the  way  and  burst  into  the  parlor.  Catrina 
was  reading  to  Mrs.  Heathcote.  The  old  lady's  short 
sight  prevented  her  recognizing  her  sudden  visitors 
until  she  heard  Catrina's  delighted  cry. 

"Ralph!" 

"My  dear  boy,  what  does  this  mean?"  asked  Mrs. 
Heathcote. 

With  few  words  Ralph  explained  the  situation. 

"I  won't  think  of  your  going  away,"  said  the  old 
lady  imperiously.  "They  can't  molest  you  here.  Be- 
sides, Mr.  Hicks  will  arrange  this  matter." 


294  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"He !"  exclaimed  Ralph.  "He's  at  the  bottom  of  it 
all.  He's  a  villain,  Auntie." 

"Ralph,  you  do  him  wrong." 

"The  story  is  too  long,  but  trust  me,  I'm  not  mis- 
taken. He  visited  the  ship  this  morning  to  be  sure  I 
was  safe;  yes,  to  taunt  me." 

"Oh,  Auntie!"  cried  Catrina,  wringing  her  hands. 
The  dreadful  prison  ship!  Think  of  it!  And  he  was 
here  this  afternoon  and  said  nothing!" 

This  confounded  Mrs.  Heathcote. 

"It  is  too  terrible  to  believe,"  she  said. 

"I  give  you  my  word  he  merits  hanging,  madam,  if 
ever  a  man  did,"  said  Rowley. 

"Never  mind,  Auntie.  Don't  bother  about  him  now," 
said  Ralph.  "He  and  I  will  have  many  things  to  settle 
when  we  meet  next.  What  we  need  now  is  a  change 
of  clothes,  something  to  eat  and  a  little  money." 

"Why,  my  dear  boy,  if  you  think  that's  best  you  shall 
soon  be  fitted  out,"  said  the  old  lady,  beginning  to 
bustle  around. 

"How  is  Helen?"  asked  Ralph. 

"We've  not  heard  a  word  from  her,  Ralph,"  said  Mrs. 
Heathcote,  regretfully. 

"We  would  have  heard  if  anything  was  amiss,"  said 
Catrina,  cheerfully.  "Come,  Auntie,  if  you  will  see 
about  the  clothes  I  will  help  Dinah  with  the  meal." 

"Poor,  dear  fellow,"  Ralph  could  hear  her  say,  as  she 
passed  into  the  hall  with  Mrs.  Heathcote. 

"We  are  all  right,  my  boy;  in  an  hour  we'll  be  safe," 
said  Rowley,  gayly,  when  the  two  were  alone.  "I  don't 


CATRINA  PATS  THE  RANSOM  295 

know  which  is  the  most  delightful,  the  old  lady  or  the 
young." 

Ralph's  thoughts  were  too  busy  to  allow  him  an  idle 
word.  The  room  was  full  of  memories  for  him.  One 
by  one  they  carried  him  back  like  so  many  stepping 
stones  to  his  boyhood  days. 

By  and  by  Mrs.  Heathcote  returned  with  some  of  her 
husband's  clothing,  which  she  had  retained  in  a  pious 
wardrobe  of  old  mementos.  A  selection  was  soon 
made  and  the  two  men  were  taken  upstairs  to  divest 
themselves  of  their  tell-tale  regimentals.  They  made 
a  laughable  appearance  as  they  reentered  the  parlor, 
for  Mr.  Heathcote's  suits  were  too  large  for  Ralph  and 
too  small  for  Rowley. 

Catrina  set  to  work  with  a  needle  to  remedy  the 
worst  defects.  As  she  was  kneeling  before  Ralph  to 
tighten  a  too  ample  vest  he  placed  his  hand  gently  on 
her  hair.  She  permitted  it  to  remain  there  for  a  mo- 
ment and  then  as  she  removed  it  gently  she  raised  her 
eyes  to  his  sadly  and  shook  her  head. 

"Egad !"  said  Rowley,  surveying  himself.  'This  suit 
has  all  the  effect  of  a  year's  high  living.  I  feel  as  if  I 
had  the  gouty  habit  and  an  enlarged  liver." 

In  a  state  of  tense  excitement  the  little  party  sat 
down  to  the  meal  Dinah  had  prepared. 

Every  one  struggled  for  composure,  but  speech 
came  in  a  disjointed,,  spasmodic  form. 

"You'll  write  at  once  to  Helen,  won't  you,  Auntie? 
Tell  her  I'm  all  right.  Say  nothing  about  the  prison 
ship." 


296  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  Catrina. 

For  answer  Ralph  turned  to  Rowley. 

"Our  best  plan,"  said  the  doctor,  "is  to  get  up  to  the 
north  of  the  island  to-night  and  push  farther  along  to- 
morrow if  we  can.  I  don't  think  we  shall  meet  any 
troubles  we  can't  get  over.  The  only  thing  I  regret  is 
I  can't  see  Hicks  when  that  draft  is  presented." 

"What  draft  is  that?"  asked  Mrs.  Heathcote. 

With  great  gusto  Rowley  told  the  tale  of  his  dealing 
with  Wills. 

The  old  lady  failed  to  appreciate  the  humor  of  the 
financial  part  of  the  transaction,  for  she  said  seriously : 

"If  Mr.  Hicks  doesn't  pay  it  I  will." 

"Let  me  pay  it,  Auntie,"  begged  Catrina. 

"My  dear  young  lady,  in  that  way  you'll  buy  two 
good  men  at  a  ridiculously  low  figure,"  said  Rowley. 

"I  can't  estimate  Rowley's  worth,"  said  Ralph  laugh- 
ing, "but  I  swear  it's  too  high  for  me." 

"Tell  Auntie  I  may,"  pleaded  Catrina. 

"You'll  never  see  that  draft,  Catrina,"  said  Ralph, 
"but  if  you  do  you  may  pay  it  on  condition  you  allow 
me  to  return"  it." 

"No,"  she  cried,  "no  conditions." 

"You  want  to  buy  me  body  and  soul?"  asked  Ralph. 

"No,"  said  Catrina,  dropping  her  voice,  "but  I  would 
like  to  know  you  owed  your  ransom  to  me." 

A  knock  at  the  outside  door  startled  the  company. 

"Who  can  it  be  this  time  of  night?"  asked  Mrs. 
Heathcote  alarmed.  "Go  back  to  the  kitchen,  Dinah, 
I  will  answer  it." 


CATRINA  PAYS  THE  RANSOM  297 

All  were  standing.     Rowley  felt  for  his  pistol. 

"We'll  fight  it  out,  Ralph,"  he  said. 

"It  can't  be  any  one  after  us,"  said  Ralph.  "Prob- 
ably some  messenger." 

"But,  Ralph,  supposing—  '  began  Catrina,  her 
face  white  as  a  sheet.  "If  it  is,  Ralph,  here's  the  old 
passage." 

Saying  this  she  opened  a  part  of  the  partition  at  the 
side  of  the  fireplace  and  revealed  a  low  passage  that 
went  straight  through  the  big  chimney.  Ralph  and 
she  had  often  played  in  it.  It  was  not  unlike  a  long 
flue  open  at  the  top  to  the  air. 

The  knocking  at  the  door  was  urgently  repeated. 

"Go  along,  Auntie,"  said  Ralph.  "Whatever  it  is, 
it  is  best  to  answer  it.  Be  careful,  that's  all." 

"They  shall  not  touch  you,  said  the  old  lady  reso- 
lutely as  she  went  out  into  the  hall. 

"Go  in  there!  do,"  pleaded  Catrina.  "Hurry! 
Hurry!" 

"The  young  lady's  suggestion  is  best,"  said  Rowley. 

The  two  men  stooped  and  entered  the  passage.  As 
Catrina  closed  the  partition  behind  them  she  heard 
Hicks's  voice  in  the  hall. 

Catrina's  heart  was  beating  wildly.  More  than  once 
she  was  forced  to  gasp  for  breath  as  she  leaned  against 
the  door  and  listened  to  the  words  uttered  without,  but 
the  very  intensity  of  her  excitement  came  to  her  as  a 
positive  relief  after  the  apathy,  despair  and  loneliness 
she  had  experienced  during  the  last  few  weeks.  It  was 
a  moment  of  danger,  she  knew.  Some  crisis  was  at 


298  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

hand — exactly  of  what  nature  she  could  not  guess.  Her 
only  clear  thought  was  that  Ralph  was  in  her  keeping, 
and  there  was  something  akin  to  joy  for  her  in  the 
sense  of  peril.  The  exhilaration  of  a  vague  resolve 
filled  her  as  though  in  response  to  the  beat  of  her  emo- 
tions. She  could  hear  Hicks  alternately  pleading  with 
Mrs.  Heathcote  and  commanding  her. 

"I  shall  not  remind  you  again  that  you  are  running 
a  great  risk  in  delaying  me,"  he  said  finally.  "If  you 
will  not  allow  me  to  see  Miss  Rutherford  alone  for  a  few 
minutes,  well  and  good;  you  must  take  the  conse- 
quences." 

"You  shall  not,"  said  the  old  lady  positively.  "Mr. 
Hicks,  I  command  you  to  leave  my  house." 

Catrina  threw  open  the  door. 

"With  your  permission,  Auntie,  I  will  see  Mr.  Hicks. 
I  have  something  to  say  to  him." 

"Mr.  Hicks  has/  no  business  here  at  this  late  hour 
that  I  will  countenance,"  said  Mrs.  Heathcote  sternly. 

"Miss  Rutherford,  if  my  business  could  be  transacted 
at  any  other  time  needless  to  say  I  would  defer  it.  In 
a  very  few  minutes  there  will  be  nothing  for  any  of  us 
but  regrets.  However,  rather  than  insist  further — 

Hicks  moved  toward  the  street  door. 

"How  long  do  you  want  with  me,  sir?"  asked  Ca- 
trina. 

"A  mere  matter  of  two  or  three  minutes." 

"Can't  you  deliver  your — your  business  to  my  aunt, 
also?" 

"I  can't.     Absolutely,"  replied  Hicks,  resolutely. 


CATRINA  PAYS  THE  RANSOM 

Laying  a  hand  on  Mrs.  Heathcote's  shoulder,  Ca- 
trina  said : 

"I  think  it  is  best,  Auntie,  dear,  that  I  should  see  Mr. 
Hicks.  Leave  us  for  a  minute;  I  will  call  you." 

"I  don't  like  this  intrusion,"  persisted  the  old  lady, 
"but  if  you  think " 

"I  do,"  interrupted  Catrina,  who,  turning  to  Hicks, 
said  as  she  stepped  away  from  the  threshold: 

"You  may  enter,  sir." 

After  whispering  hurriedly  to  her  aunt,  she  followed 
her  unwelcome  visitor. 

"Will  you  permit  me  to  close  the  door  for  a  mo- 
ment?" were  Hicks's  first  words  after  casting  a  rapid 
glance  around  the  room. 

"You  may,"  said  Catrina. 

"Thank  you.  Miss  Rutherford  certainly  is  treating 
me  with  discretion  if  not  with  welcome." 

Catrina  watched  him  as  he  deliberately  closed  the 
door  and  even  more  deliberately  walked  to  the  supper 
table,  which  he  scanned  with  an  insolent  air  of  triumph. 

"I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  "I  was  not  one  of  your  com- 
pany to-night.  I  didn't  know  you  supped  so  late." 

"What  is  it  you  want?"  asked  Catrina  angrily.  "You 
said  your  time  was  very  limited." 

"True.  Will  Miss  Rutherford  be  seated?  Thank 
you.  Nowr  will  you  listen  to  me  to  the  end — I  shall 
be  brief — without  exclamation  of  any  kind?  I  shall 
place  my  subject  before  you  in  such  shape  that  when 
you  have  heard  me  it  will  be  necessary  for  you  to  an- 
swer only  'yes'  or  'no.' ' 


3<X>  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

Hicks  raised  his  voice  in  uttering  the  last  three 
words.  Catrina  felt  there  was  something  pitiless  in  the 
alternative.  To  avert  his  steady  gaze  she  said  ner- 
vously : 

"Please  proceed." 

"I  am  glad  you  are  interested.  My  fate  and  that  of 
others,  who  I  believe  have  Miss  Rutherford's  warm — 
shall  I  say,  sympathy? — depends  upon  her  answer." 

Seating  himself  in  a  chair  facing  Catrina,  he  bent  for- 
ward and  commenced  to  twirl  his  thumbs  slowly  in  ac- 
companiment to  his  words.  Despite  his  outer  assur- 
ance a  slight  tremble  in  his  voice  occasionally  betrayed 
the  struggle  he  was  making  to  completely  master  his 
feelings.  Compelled  by  the  force  of  the  man  and  the 
sense  of  danger  attached  to  him,  Catrina  sat  watching 
him  like  one  fascinated. 

"A  short  time  ago,"  Hicks  began,  with  the  utmost 
deliberation,  "I  was  presumptuous  enough  to  place  at 
Miss  Rutherford's  feet  what  remains  of  my  life,  honor 
and  fortune.  Up  to  a  certain  point,  I  must  confess, 
she  was  admirably  candid  with  me.  She  closed  every 
door  of  hope  to  me  except  one — she  permitted  me  to 
press  my  suit.  Finally,  though  still  disdaining  any- 
thing higher  than  friendship  for  me,  she  condescended 
to  seriously  entertain  my  proposition.  She  left  one 
afternoon,  having  more  than  half  promised  that  if  I 
would  be  satisfied  with  a  greatly  qualified  acceptance 
she  would  consent  to  be  my  wife.  I  told  her  that  if  she 
would  grant  me  so  much — so  little  from  the  lover's 
standpoint — I  would  wait  contentedly  until,  by  service 


CATRINA  PATS  THE  RANSOM  3<DI 

and  proof  of  my  devotion,  I  had  won  the  rest.  Was 
Miss  Rutherford  playing  with  me  then,  or  merely  using 
me  for  some  purpose?  I  would  fain  believe  neither, 
and  yet  within  a  few  hours  of  encouraging  me  she  dis- 
missed me  by  an  incredibly  short  note,  delivered  to  me 
by  a  man  who  more  than  once  has  avowed  himself  my 
enemy.  Do  you  wonder  if  I  ask  myself  what  part  he 
played  in  my  dismissal?  Of  one  thing  I  am  certain, 
Catrina — but  for  his  influence  you  would  never  have 
written  that  letter.  Dear  me!  What  is  that?  Are 
you  really  troubled  with  rats  here?" 

"Oh,  no.     Go  on,"  begged  Catrina,  nervously. 

"Ah !  Well,  then.  I  am  not  a  man  to  lose  easily  or 
to  give  up  without  a  struggle  the  dearest  prize  of  my 
life.  Catrina,  I  will  win  you  yet  if  I  can  win  you  by  any 
means.  Foul  or  fair  I  care  not,  but  dp  me  the  justice 
to  acknowledge  that  hitherto  I  have  played  fair.  I 
should  have  won  you  ere  this  but  for  unwarranted  op- 
position. You  know  that.  I  am  not  guessing  at  my 
facts.  You  rejected  me  as  a  sort  of  price  you  were 
forced  to  pay  to  an  unholy  tyranny.  Good!  I  am 
now  gcing  to  propose  that  you  accept  me  for  the  same 
reason." 

Hicks  rose  to  his  feet.  His  voice  was  defiant.  He 
could  no  longer  hide  his  sense  of  triumph  in  the  situa- 
tion. With  one  fist  clenched,  and  leaning  upon  the 
table,  he  continued : 

"A  couple  of  men  escaped  this  evening  from  His 
Majesty's  prison  ship.  I  have  guessed  where  they  are. 
Perhaps  Miss  Rutherford  knows.  Unless  you  speak 


3O2  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

they  are  probably  safe.  Your  silence,  I  take  it,  is  as- 
sured; therefore  their  fate  lies  in  my  hands.  One  of 
those  men  is  my  enemy.  At  last,  thank  Heaven,  he  is 
absolutely  in  my  power.  I  can  kill  him  as  easily  as — a 
terrier  could  that — rat  we  heard  a  moment  ago  in  yon- 
der partition.  Do  you  blame  me  if  I  rejoice?  Do  you 
wonder  if  I  demand  the  highest  ransom  I  can  think 
of  to  forego  my  revenge  and  permit  him  to  escape  un- 
hurt? Not  all  the  riches  in  the  world  could  tempt  me; 
but  I  love  you,  Catrina,  beyond  riches,  and  on  one 
condition  will  place  that  man's  life  and  liberty  in  your 
hands.  I  left  the  fort  with  the  understanding  that  a 
squad  of  soldiers  was  to  follow  me  here  exactly  thirty 
minutes  after  I  departed.  There  are  now,"  continued 
Hicks,  placing  his  watch  on  the  table,  "fifteen  minutes 
remaining.  If  the  military  arrive  I  may  be  powerless. 
If  you  will  give  me  your  solemn  promise — and  I'll  trust 
you  not  to  default — that  you  will  marry  me  within  six 
months  I  will  leave  here  instantly  and  no  one  shall  be 
disturbed." 

Breathlessly,  Catrina  arose,  her  hand  pressed  hard 
against  her  heart. 

"Is — is  that — the  only  way?"  she  asked,  blankly. 

"Absolutely,"  replied  Hicks,  "if  you  want  to  save 
him." 

"To  save  him!"  murmured  Catrina,  hysterically. 
"Yes,  yes,  if  that  is  the  only  way — yes." 

"You  promise  to  marry  me  within  six  months?"  he 
persisted. 

"Yes,  I  do,"  she  replied,  solemnly. 


CATRINA  PAYS  THE  RANSOM  303 

"My  God,  but  you  love  him !"  exclaimed  Hicks. 

His  bitter  expression  of  admiration  had  been  barely 
uttered  when  the  partition  was  thrown  open  and  Ralph, 
livid  with  anger,  stepped  into  the  room. 

Rowley  followed  him. 

"Blackguard  and  scoundrel!"  cried  Ralph,  striding 
toward  Hicks.  "Miss  Rutherford  shall  make  no  bar- 
gain with  you.  I  shall  buy  my  own  safety  at  my  own 
price." 

Hicks,  white  as  his  lace  frills,  stumbled  back  a  step 
or  two  at  Ralph's  sudden  onslaught. 

"Oh,  Ralph!"  cried  Catrina  in  fear.  But  there  was 
a  ring  of  joy  in  her  voice  that  maddened  Hicks. 

"You  can  hope  for  nothing  from  me,"  cried  Hicks, 
addressing  Ralph. 

"Nothing  from  you,  you  villain !  No,  nothing  but 
what  I  can  take.  Don't  you  think  you  owe  me  some- 
thing?" 

"Nothing  but  what  I  would  pay  you,"  sneered  Hicks. 

"Don't  fear,  then,  you  shall  have  your  opportunity 
now.  You  have  shown  what  you  want  of  me,  and  you 
have  tried  by  every  trick  of  dirty  treachery  to  get  it. 
Let  me  tell  you  what  I  want  of  you — your  life." 

A  cry  escaped  Catrina.  She  placed  her  hand  on 
Ralph's  arm. 

"We  are  not  settling  accounts  that  way  to-night," 
said  Hicks,  struggling  to  be  cool. 

"We  are,  Mr.  Hicks,  I  assure  you.  Thanks  to  you  we 
have  a  few  minutes  left.  How  many?"  Ralph  asked 
as  he  handed  Hicks  his  watch. 


304  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

"If  you  are  interested,"  said  Hicks.  "Capt.  De 
Lancy  and  his  men  will  be  here  in  about  ten  minutes. 
Don't  you  think  you  had  better  rely  upon  Miss  Ruther- 
ford's arrangement  with  me?" 

"Yes,  do,  Ralph,"  pleaded  Catrina. 

"When  I  can  kill  this  wretch?"  demanded  Ralph. 

"No,  Ralph,  dear;  don't." 

"Catrina,  there's  only  one  word  that  can  save  him. 
Do  you  love  him?" 

"Ralph— I— think— I— 

"Forswear  yourself  to  me,  Catrina.  Look  up !  Do 
you  wish  to  spare  him  or  me?" 

"Can  you  ask?"  Catrina  pleaded. 

"Good !  Rowley,  Mr.  Hicks  and  I  will  have  to  count 
on  you.  Offer  him  his  choice  of  the  pistols." 

"Ralph,  you  are  not  going  to "  cried  Catrina. 

"My  dear,  you  must  leave  the  room.  Let  me  lock 
the  door.  For  my  sake  be  silent  for  a  few  minutes. 
My  safety  depends  on  it.  Can't  I  trust  you?" 

Saying  this,  Ralph  led  her  to  the  door. 

"Is  there  no  other  way?     I  will  marry  him,  Ralph." 

"And  kill  me?" 

Catrina  bowed  her  head.  Then  suddenly  she  turned 
the  key  in  the  door  and  quickly  withdrawing  it  put  it 
in  her  bosom.  Throwing  her  arms  around  Ralph's  neck 
she  cried  excitedly: 

"You  shan't  send  me  away.  I  have  courage.  God 
guard  you,  Ralph.  I  hate  that  man." 

The  vehemence  of  this  utterance  appalled  Hicks. 
He  was  standing  against  the  wall  like  a  dog  at  bay. 


CATRINA  PATS  THE  RANSOM  305 

"Is  this  murder?"  he  cried.  "Let  me  out.  Give 
me  the  key,  Miss  Rutherford." 

"Don't  put  a  finger  on  her,"  cried  Ralph.  "Stand 
back,  or  I'll  shoot  you  without  pity.  Take  your  place 
at  the  other  end  of  that  table.  Mr.  Rowley  shall  count 
three  and  our  account  with  one  another  will  be  settled." 

While  Rowley  was  struggling  to  induce  Hicks  to 
take  a  choice  of  the  weapons  Ralph  pleaded  with  Ca- 
trina  to  leave  the  room. 

"I  will  not,"  she  cried  passionately.  "If  you  force 
me  out  I  will  raise  an  alarm.  I  am  safe  here.  I  won't 
move.  Fight  if  you  will — and  kill  him." 

"You  splendid  girl !"  cried  Ralph,  as  he  kissed  her. 

He  went  to  the  end  of  the  table  and  took  his  station 
there.  One  pistol  remained  on  the  table  before  Hicks. 
Rowley  handed  Ralph  the  other  pistol. 

"We  are  in  your  hands,  Rowley.  See  that  the  play 
is  fair.  Proceed !" 

Hicks,  now  deadly  pale,  was  standing  where  Rowley 
had  placed  him.  He  was  nervously  fingering  the  wea- 
pon before  him.  Hate  and  fear  were  struggling  within 
him  for  control.  He  was  no  coward,  but  he  lacked  the 
desperation  that  ruled  Ralph.  Moreover,  the  revul- 
sion of  feeling  from  the  sense  of  triumph  a  few  minutes 
before  tended  to  unnerve  him.  He  felt  he  was  caught 
in  the  trap  he  had  made  for  his  enemy.  A  moment  or 
two  more  and  he  would  be  safe !  He  looked  around  the 
room.  He  saw  Catrina  standing  trembling  against  the 
door — supremely  beautiful  he  thought  in  her  devotion 
to  the  man  she  loved.  Rowley,  massive  and  cool,  like 


3O6  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

a  judge,  stood  at  his  side,  midway  between  himself  and 
his  antagonist.  The  little  world  that  counted  for  every- 
thing at  that  moment  was  against  him.  Gripping  his 
pistol  tight  he  looked  at  Ralph's  face,  hard  set  with  one 
purpose — to  kill  him.  Only  a  few  feet  separated  his 
antagonist  from  him,  and  his  heart  quailed  when  he 
heard  Rowley  say,  deliberately: 

"Keep  your  pistols  at  your  side,  gentlemen,  until  I 
have  asked  you  whether  you  are  ready  and  then 
counted  one,  two,  three.  At  the  command  'Fire !'  raise 
your  weapons  and  shoot.  If  either  of  you  deviate  from 
this  I  swear  I  will  put  a  bullet  through  him  on  the 
spot." 

"I  will  have  none  of  this,"  cried  Hicks.  I  refuse  to 
give  color  of  self-defense  to  any  murder  you  may  in- 
tend." 

"Coward  as  well  as  scoundrel,  eh?"  sneered  Ralph. 
"To  the  last  then  I  have  given  you  more  credit  than 
you  deserve.  Look  at  him !" 

"The  gentleman  is  careful  of  his  fine  carcass,"  cried 
Rowley. 

"Go  on,"  cried  Hicks,  wincing  under  the  lash  of  in- 
sults that  made  his  face  livid.  "I  will  settle  with  you, 
too." 

"You  settle !"  cried  Ralph.  "Renegade,  false  to  your 
only  friend's  trust;  thief,  who  stole  and  gambled  the 
money  committed  to  your  charge;  sneak,  who,  under 
the  cloak  of  friendship,  plotted " 

"Liar!"  roared  Hicks. 

"So   ho!    You   can   feel!"   cried   Ralph,   insolently. 


CATRINA  PAYS  THE  RANSOM  307 

"Yet  you  could  play  the  part  of  spy  to  entrap  me  and 
then  come  here,  you  scoundrel,  to  force  this  girl  by 
threat  to  marry  you.  Gentleman,  that  you  claim  to  be; 
coward,  that  you  are;  daring  to  prate  of  revenge ' 

"Stop !"  cried  Hicks,  threateningly. 

" when  you  haven't  the  courage  to  take  it.  I 

would  spit  on  you  if  it  wasn't  that  it  would  wash  some 
of  the  filth  from  the  King's  commissioner." 

Provoked,  maddened  to  the  last  extreme,  Hicks, 
with  .a  yell  of  rage,  lifted  his  pistol  and  fired  at  Ralph 
across  the  table.  The  bullet  entered  Ralph's  shoulder 
and  his  weapon  dropped  from  his  hand.  Catrina 
rushed  to  Ralph. 

"Murderer!"  cried  Rowley.  Snatching  up  Ralph's 
pistol,  he  discharged  it  at  Hicks. 

"Murder!  Murder!  My  God,  to  die  thus!"  cried 
Hicks,  as  he  sank  to  the  floor. 

His  cry  rang  through  the  house.  .  The  moment's 
silence  that  followed  was  broken  by  Mrs.  Heathcote's 
voice  and  the  sound  of  hurrying  feet  in  the  garden 
without. 

"The  soldiers!"  cried  Catrina.  "Run,  Ralph,  run! 
Here's  the  key,  Mr.  Rowley." 

In  an  instant  the  door  was  opened  and  the  three  were 
fleeing  through  the  kitchen. 

The  hammering  of  the  soldiers  on  the  front  door 
aroused  Hicks. 

"The  rear  garden,  De  Lancy,"  Hicks  gasped.  "Mur- 
derers !  Shoot  them !" 

He  had  made  himself  heard.     He  could  hear  the 


3O8  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

sound  of  footsteps  hurrying  around  the  house,  and  as 
he  fell  back  exhausted  he  panted  with  satisfaction. 

Once  out  in  the  garden,  Ralph  and  Rowley  made 
straight  for  the  wicket  gate.  The  next  instant  they  were 
past  it.  Turning  quickly,  Ralph  put  his  arms  around 
Catrina  and  kissed  her. 

"Hurry,  hurry!"  she  cried. 

"Halt!"  roared  a  voice,  followed  immediately  by  a 
shot. 

The  bullet  struck  Catrina  in  the  back.  With  a  cry 
she  grasped  the  palings  to  steady  herself. 

Hearing  the  cry,  Ralph  returned. 

"What's  the  matter?    Are  you  hurt?"  cried  Ralph. 

"No,  no!"  she  cried.  "Only  frightened;  hurry.  God 
bless  you." 

Peering  through  the  darkness,  striving  still  to  watch 
Ralph's  retreat,  the  night  grew  blacker  before  her  eyes, 
and  she  sank  to  the  ground. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

WHERE   THE  HEART  IS  THERE  WILL  OUR 
THOUGHTS  BE  ALSO. 

THE  first  news  that  I  received  of  either  Ralph's  cap- 
ture or  escape  reached  me  amid  the  excitement  that 
attended  the  reported  murder  of  Mr.  Hicks.  The  story 
ran  that  Hicks  had  been  foully  slain  at  Mrs.  Heath- 
cote's  by  two  desperadoes  who  had  escaped  from  the 
prison  ship. 

I  made  my  way  at  once  to  King  street  and  there  in  a 
few  moments  I  learned  the  sad  reality. 

Hicks  had  expired  during  the  night. 

The  soldiers  had  found  Catrina  and  carried  her  into 
the  house. 

No  one  but  Mrs.  Heathcote  and  the  doctor  was  per- 
mitted to  see  Catrina  until  the  end.  She  lingered  only 
a  few  days,  dreaming  of  Ralph,  as  her  Aunt  told  me 
afterward. 

"Auntie,  I  love  him,"  she  repeated  frequently. 

None  of  us  heard  of  Ralph  for  many  weeks.  With 
great  effort  Rowley  managed  to  get  him  as  far  as  New 
Rochelle.  His  wound  became  seriously  painful  and 
perhaps  his  life  was  saved  only  by  the  hospitality  of  a 
Huguenot  family,  who  received  and  sheltered  the 
wanderers. 


3IO  THE  HEART  OF  WOMAN 

A  month  elapsed  before  the  patient  dared  undertake 
the  journey  northward,  even  by  short  stages.  He  ar- 
rived at  the  Manse  pitiably  weak  and  there  learned  of 
the  dark  sequel  to  the  escape  from  the  Jersey. 

With  a  silence  that  was  the  very  soul  of  tenderness 
Helen  nursed  him  back  to  health.  She  knew  that  the 
sadness  upon  him  was  the  shadow  of  another  love,  a 
haunting  spirit  that  rendered  her  affection,  as  she 
thought,  a  common-place  thing  of  clay,  yet  pitying 
Ralph  without  measure,  serving  him  without  thought 
of  sacrifice,  she  offered  him,  in  the  guise  of  duty,  a 
love  that  was  as  priceless  in  its  own  way  as  the  one  he 
had  lost.  As  I  think  of  it  I  bow  my  head  in  wonder 
at  the  thought  of  how  much  the  silences  of  life  contain. 

When  Ralph  was  physically  recovered  he  went  back 
to  the  army.  I  didn't  see  him  or  hear  from  him  until 
the  war  was  ended.  He  bore  an  active  part  in  the 
operations  that  closed  with  the  surrender  of  Corn- 
wallis  and  was  promoted  rapidly.  He  was  colonel  when 
he  entered  New  York  with  Gen.  Washington  on  the 
day  the  British  evacuated  the  city.  Helen,  jubilant 
over  the  happy  termination  of  the  long  civil  struggle, 
had  come  down  to  Mrs.  Heathcote's  with  Isaac  Scott 
to  meet  her  husband. 

Ralph  paid  me  an  early  visit.  The  campaigning 
has  given  him  rugged  health,  but  I  soon  perceived  the 
old  boyishness  and  elasticity  of  spirit  were  quite  de- 
parted from  him. 

"Put  your  hat  on,  Alex,"  he  said  after  our  greetings 
were  ended. 


WHERE    THE   HEART  IS  311 

On  the  street  he  linked  his  arm  with  mine  and  led 
me  up  Broadway  to  St.  Paul's  chapel. 

"It  is  here?"  he  said,  half  in  question,  as  we  turned 
into  the  churchyard. 

I  knew  what  he  was  seeking.  Without  a  word  I 
conducted  him  to  Catrina's  grave. 

Without  a  word,  his  hand  on  my  shoulder,  he  stood 
gazing  at  the  little  mound  of  earth  for  some  minutes. 
The  tears  were  in  his  eyes  when  he  turned  away  and 
still  clinging  to  me  walked  homeward. 

THE    END. 


"Too  good  a  novel  to  remain  unclaimed." 

—  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

#    #    * 


THE 


OF  ELIZABETH 


Frontispiece  by  C.  Allan  Gilbert 
Ornamental  cloth  cover,  gilt  top.         $1.50 


Times'  Saturday  Review,  Philadelphia 

ft  The  anonymous  author  of  this  clever  story  shows  all  the 
ear-marks  of  a  practiced  writer.  It  would  not  be  surprising 
when  the  name  is  revealed  to  find  it  by  no  means  unfamiliar. 
The  book  is  well  constructed,  consistent  and  logical,  and 
although  its  theme  would  lend  itself  easily  to  sensational  treat- 
ment, it  is  handled  with  conspicuous  delicacy  and  restraint. 
Elizabeth  is  a  thoroughly  natural  and  charming  character. 
There  is  sufficient  humor  to  leaven  the  seriousness  of  the  main 
thread  of  the  story.  It  is  a  good  tale,  capitally  told." 

Pittsburgh  Chronicle*Telegraph 

"A  powerful  romance,  strong  in  plot,  vivid  in  construc- 
tion. It  is  full  of  human  interest  and  deep  sympathy,  with- 
out a  trace  of  morbidness  or  sentimental  gaucherie.  The 
picture  which  it  represents  of  the  social  life  of  New  York  is 
realistic  without  being  ill-natured  or  sarcastic.  It  is  a  love 
story  which  will  force  every  woman  who  reads  the  book  to 
place  herself  in  the  position  of  Elizabeth  and  ask  herself 
what  she  would  have  done  if  subjected  to  the  same  ordeal.  '  ' 

J.    F.    TAYLOR    CSL    COMPANY 

5*7   EAST  SIXTEENTH   ST.,    NEW  YORK 


LJICHMl 

BY 

MICHAEL    WHITE 

Ornamental   ClotK   Cover,    $1.5O 
Fully     Illustrated 

*  * 

Jl  Strong  Historical  Novel 

Dealing  with  the  Sepoy  Rebellion 

* 

A  story  founded  upon  the  struggle  of  the 
famous  Princess  of  India,  Lachmi  Bai,  to 
recover  her  possessions  from  the  English. 

The  novel  shows  her  in  the  role  of  The 
'Jeanne  d*  Arc  of  Indiay  depicting  with  masterly 
skill  the  brains,  unceasing  energy  and  indomi- 
table courage  which  enabled  her  to  rouse  the 
native  princes  to  strike  a  blow  for  freedom. 
Her  beauty,  woman's  wit  and  earnestness  of 
purpose,  all  make  her  a  most  fascinating  hero- 
ine, both  in  romance  and  history. 

J.    F.    TAYLOR    CEL    COMPANY 

5*7    EAST  SIXTEENTH  ST.,    NEW    YORK 


TWENTY-SIX 

ONE 


THREE    MASTERPIECES    FROM   THb 
RUSSIAN    BT 

MAXIME  GORKY 

Comprehensive   Preface   by  IVAN   STKANNItt 


'TWENTY.  SIX  AMD    ONE 

A    Prose    Poem 


The      Tale     which      RanKed      CORKY     Among     the 
Foremost     "Writers     of    the     Day 


"MAL  VJi" 

TKe    Most    Famous    of   his    Short    Romance* 

*       *       * 

Choice  Artistic  Binding         Gilt  Top         Illustrated        fl.fS 

J.    F.   TAYLOR    CSL    COMPANY 

5   fr    7    EAST  SIXTEENTH    ST.,   NEW  YORtt 


M  "We     -were     Strangers    and    tHey   tooK    US    in." 

The  Van  Dwellers 

A    STRENUOUS     QUEST    FOR    A    HOME 

BY 


ALBERT    BIGELOIV 

Author  of  "  THe    Dread    Line  " 

To  THOSE  WHO  HAVE  LIVED  IN  FLATS 

To  THOSE  WHO  ARE  LIVING  IN  FLATS,  AND 

To  THOSE  WHO  ARE  THINKING  OF  LIVING  IN  FLATS 

Every  one  will  enjoy  the  delicious  humor  in  this  account 
of  a  pursuit  of  the  Ideal  Home.     The  agonizing  compli- 
cations that  arose  between  Landlord,  Janitor,  Moving 
Man  and  the  Little  Family  are  limitless. 
Only    tKe    income  of  tKe    searcHers   is  limited. 


A    booh,   to    appeal   to    every    one,  wHetHer 
afflicted  -witK  liKe  troubles  or  not. 


Illustrated,  ClotK,  75c. 

Very  cKeap — considering  wHat  tK« 
experience  cost. 


J.    F.    TAYLOR    <SL    COMPANY 

3   4>    7   EAST  SIXTEENTH  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


The 

Great  White  Way 

Ornamental  Cloth  Cover,  Gilt  Top,  $1.5O 

A  RECORD  OF  AN  UNUSUAL  VOYAGE  OF  DISCOVERY,  AND  SOME 
ROMANTIC  LOVE  AFFAIRS  AMID  STRANGE  SURROUNDINGS 

The  whole  recounted  by  one  NICHOLAS  CHASE,  promoter  of 
the  expedition,  whose  reports  have  been  arranged  for 
publication  by  ALBERT  BIGELOW  PAINE. 
author  of  "The  Van  Dwellers"  "The  Bread  Line" 
etc.  Drawings  by  BERNARD  J.  ROSENMEYER.  Sketches 
by  CHAUNCEY  GALE,  and  maps,  etc.,  from  MR.  CHASE'S 
note  book. 

A    Romance    of   tKe    Farthest    South 

A  THRILLING    ACCOUNT  OF  ADVENTURE 
AND  EXPLORATION  AT  THE   SOUTH    POLE 

"  THE  GREAT  WHITE  WAY  is  the  best  thing  of  the  sort 

I've  seen  since  «  Gulliver*  s  Travels* 
"It  is  far  more  entertaining  than  any  account  of  Ant- Arctic 

discovery  given  to  the  world  heretofore,  and  I'll  venture 

the  opinion  that  it  is  fully  as  correct  in  scientific  research. 

Moreover,  the   story  will  fetch  all  who  have  felt  the 

«  hug  of  the  bear. ' 

Very  truly  yours, 

JOSHUA   SLOCUM, 

Mariner." 
ALBERT  BIGELOW  PAINE, 

Voyager. 

J.    F.   TAYLOR   (EL    COMPANY 

5   fr    7   EAST  SIXTEENTH   ST.,   NEW  YORK 


NORTH 

WEST  But  One  Verdict  E.AST 

SOUTH 

THE 
CHRONIC       NELSON  LLOYD 

X* 

8vo,  ClotK,  $1.25 

OutlooK,    New    YorK 

New  "A   new  American  humorist.      The   stories  have  the  point  and  dry 

YorK    force  found  in  those  told  by  the  late  lamented  David  Harum." 

San    Francisco     Argonaut 
Cal.  "Will  bring  a  smile  when  it  is  read  a  second  or  third  time." 

New    Orleans    Picayune 

La.  "Racy  with  wisdom  and  humor." 

Chicago     Inter-Ocean 

"A  book  full  of  good  laughs,  and  will  be  found  a  sure  specifk  for  the 


bines." 

Omaha    World    Herald 
Neb.  "The  reader  will  love  him." 

North      American,     Philadelphia 

"Great  natural   humor  and  charm.      In  this  story  alone  Mr.  Lloyd 
*"    is  descrying  of  rank  up-front  among  the  American  humorists." 

Portland    Transcript 

--  "A  cheerful  companion.     The  reviewer   has  enjoyed  it  in  a  month 

when  books  to  be  read  have  been  many  and  the  time  precious." 

Denver     Republican 

"Nelson  Lloyd  is  to  be  hailed  as  a  Columbus.  There  isn't  a  story  in 
the  book  that  isn't  first-class  fun,  and  there's  no  reason  why  The  Chrtnic 
Loafer  should  not  be  placed  in  the  gallery  of  American  celebrities  beside  the 
popular  and  philosophical  Mr.  Z>oe/«v." 

J.     F.     TAYLOR     C8L     COMPANY 

5*7   EAST  SIXTEEMTH   ST.,    NEW   YORK 


By   NELSON    LLOYD 

Author  of  "The  Chronic  Loafer" 

AN     AMERICAN     LOVE     STORY 

Illustrated.  ClotK,  8vo,  $1.30 


"  '  A  Drone  and  A  Dreamer  '  recalls  the  maxim  of  La 
Bruyere  :  ' When  the  reading  of  a  book  elevates  the  mind  and 
inspires  noble  sentiments,  do  not  seek  for  another  rule  bj  which 
to  judge  the  work.  It  is  good  and  made  by  the  band  of  a 
workman. '  One  of  the  cleverest  and  most  fascinating  stories, 
all  too  brief,  that  it  has  ever  been  my  pleasure  to  read." 

— WALT.  McDoucALL,  in  North  American. 

"  Capitally  told.     The  whole  story  is  rich  in  humor." 

— Outlook. 

"The  most  delightfully  original  offering  of  the  year." 

—New  Tork  World. 

"  A  story  that  everyone  can  enjoy." — New  Tork  Press. 

"At  once  and  unreservedly  we  acknowledge  the  singu- 
lar merits  of  this  clever  romance. ' ' 

— New  Tork  Times  Saturday  Review. 

"  Occasionally  across  the  weary  wastes  of  contemporary 
fiction — erotic,  neurotic,  tommyrotic  or  would-be  historical, 
— comes  a  breath  from  some  far,  sweet  land  of  cleanness  and 
beauty.  Such  a  story  is  'A  Drone  and  A  Dreamer.'  It  is 
difficult  to  conceive  of  anything  more  charming  and  delight- 
ful than  this  book." — Chicago  Evening  Post. 

J.  F.  TAYLOR  (EL  COMPANY 

5*7    EAST  SIXTEENTH   ST.,    NEW    YORK 


THE  SCREEW 

BY 

PAUL  BOURGET 

Copiously  Illustrated. 
Ornamental  cover,  gilt  top.     $1.25 

A.    Novel    of    Society    in    Paria    and    London 

A  fascinating  love  story.  The  character  studies  contained 
in  this  society  novel  of  to-day  are  in  Bourget's  most  finished 
style.  His  power  of  analysis  and  ability  to  depict  character 
are  marvelous,  and  nowhere  are  they  better  illustrated  than 
in  The  Screen. 


STEPPING 


BY 

ELIZABETH  PRENTISS 

New  Illustrated  Edition. 
Ornamental  cloth  cover,  green  and  silver.     $1.50 

A  special  holiday  edition  of  Mrs.  Prentiss*  famous  story, 
bound  uniformly  with  Amelia  E.  Barr's  "  Trinity  Bells." 
Boxed  in  artistic  form.  The  two  books,  making  a  charming 
gift,  $3.00  per  set.  Sold  separately  at  $1.50  a  copy. 

J.    F.   TAYLOR    (EL    COMPANY 

5*7   EAST  SIXTEENTH   ST.,    NEW   YORft 


LORDS  °TFHE  NORTH 

By  A.    C.   LAUT 
A  STRONG   HISTORICAL   NOVEL 


J  ORDS  OF  THE  NORTH  is  a  thrilling  romance 
J  ^  dealing  with  the  rivalries  and  intrigues  of  Tbe  Ancient 
and  Honorable  Hudson's  Bay  and  the  North-West 
Companies  for  the  supremacy  of  the  fur  trade  in  the 
Great  North.  It  is  a  story  of  life  in  the  open ;  of 
pioneers  and  trappers.  The  life  of  the  fur  traders  in 
Canada  is  graphically  depicted.  The  struggles  of  the  Selkirk 
settlers  and  the  intrigues  which  made  the  life  of  the  two  great 
fur  trading  companies  so  full  of  romantic  interest,  are  here 
laid  bare.  Francis  Parkman  and  other  historians  havis 
written  of  the  discovery  and  colonization  of  this  part  of  our 
great  North  American  continent,  but  no  novel  has  appeared 
so  full  of  life  and  vivid  interest  as  Lords  of  the  North. 
Much  valuable  information  has  been  obtained  from  old  docu- 
ments and  the  records  of  the  rival  companies  which  wielded 
unlimited  power  over  a  vast  extent  of  our  country.  The 
style  is  admirable,  and  the  descriptions  of  an  untamed  conti- 
nent, of  vast  forest  wastes,  rivers,  lakes  and  prairies,  will 
place  this  book  among  the  foremost  historical  novels  of  the 
present  day.  The  struggles  of  the  English  for  supremacy, 
the  capturing  of  frontier  posts  and  forts,  and  the  life  of  trader 
and  trapper  are  pictured  with  a  master's  hand.  Besides 
being  vastly  interesting,  Lords  of  the  North  is  a  book  of  his- 
torical  value.  cloth,  8vo,  $,.5O 

J.    F.   TAYLOR    (EL    COMPANY 

5*7   EAST  SIXTEENTH  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


WHITE     BUTTERFLIES 

By    HATE    UPSON    CLARK 

Cloth,  8vo,  $1.25 

MARY  E.  WILK.INS 

"The  stories  are  marvellous.  I  feel  at  though  I  -were  constantly  find- 
ing another  vein  of  gold.  The  dramatic  power  in  some  of  them  has  never 
been  excelled  in  any  American  short  stories.  'Solly'  is  a  masterpiece." 

ANSON    JUDD     UPSON,     D.D..     L.L.D.. 

Chancellor  of  The    Univ.    of   New    YorK 

"Your  stories  are  just  what  I  like.  Your  characters  are  exceedingly 
vivid.  I  cannot  too  warmly  commend  the  simplicity  and  purity  of  your 
style,  the  vividness  of  your  characters  and  the  general  construction  of  the 
stories." 

MARGARET  E.  SANGSTER 

"It  seems  to  me  that  no  stories,  long  or  short,  have  appeared,  which 
illustrate  more  perfectly  than  these  what  we  have  in  mind  when  we  use,  in 
a  literary  sense,  the  term  'Americanism. '  The  atmosphere  of  these  beau- 
tiful tales  is  truthfully  varied  to  suit  every  locality  described,  but  everywhere 
the  standards  and  ideals  are  set  alike.  A  sound,  healthful  Americanism, 
just  what  we  wish  the  word  to  mean,  pervades  them  all." 

St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat 

"It  is  not  art ;  it  is  genius." 

The  Nation 

"It  is  unusual  to  find  so  wide  a  range  of  scene  and  person  in  one  col- 
lection of  short  stories.  In  each  of  these  a  strongly  dramatic  incident  is  in- 
troduced, ringing  both  true  and  real." 

Mail  and   Express 

"Many  a  nugget  of  wisdom,  many  a  bit  of  homely  philosophy,  and 
enough  humor  to  leaven  the  whole." 

"Western    Club   Woman 

"Full  of  exquisite  pathos,  a  tenderness,  a  delicacy  of  touch  not  often 
equalled.  The  art  is  perfect. " 

Chicago   Evening   Post 

"Mrs.  Clark  is  entitled  to  the  thanks  of  a  reading  public." 


J.     F.     TAYLOR     (8L     COMPANY 

5*7   EAST   SIXTEEMTH    ST..  NEW  YORK 


TWXITY  BELLS 

By    AMELIA    E.    BARR 

Cloth,  Svo,   $e.so 
Sixt««n  full-page  Illustrations  by  F^«ly«» 


"Orx«      of     tKe      best      stories     over    -written     bar 
Amelia   E..   Barr." 

ST.    LOUIS    GLOBE   DEMOCRAT. 

CHRISTIAN   NATION  • 

"Without  question  the  best  book  for  young  girls  which  has  appeared 
for  years.  Besides  being  interesting  it  has  an  educational  value,  as  it  is  good 
supplementary  reading  to  a  school  course  in  history.  Mrs.  Barr  is  at  her 
kest  in  Trinity  Stilt.  We  trust  that  erery  library  will  soon  hare  a  copy  oa 
its  shelves." 

LITERARY  -WORLD.    Boston. 

"In  idea  and  execution  this  is  one  of  the  author's  best  works,  and 
well  wsrthy  of  its  superb  dress  of  silver  and  green." 

THE  BOOn-BTJYERt 

"The  name  is  happily  chosen  for  this  romantic  story  of  life  in  New 
York  during  the  period  preceding  the  war  with  the  Mediterranean  corsairs, 
for  the  bells  of  Old  Trinity  ring  out  an  accompaniment  to  the  changing  for- 
tunes of  the  lovable  little  Dutch  heroine.  There  is  a  charm  in  Mrs.  Barr's 
work  that  goes  directly  to  the  reader's  heart,  while  her  skill  in  the  delinea- 
tion of  character  is  no  less  effective  in  its  appeal  to  the  mind.  Trinity  Belli 
is  an  excellent  minor  historical  romance,  worthy  of  a  permanent  place  in  a 
young  girl's  library." 

BOSTON  TIMES  • 

"No  mere  agreeable  story  of  life  in  the  early  days  of  our  country  hat 
ever  been  written.  Trinity  Bcllt  shows  Mrs.  Barr's  charm  and  power  in 
all  its  force  and  beauty.  Besides  its  historical  value,  it  is  vastly  entertaining.** 

J.     F.     TAYLOR     OL     COMPANY 

5*7   EAST  SIXTEENTH  ST.,    NEW  YORK 


Two  SIDES 

OF  A  QUESTION 

Life  from  a  Woman's  Point  of  View 

BY 

MAY    SINCLAIR 

Cloth  $1.5O 

A  DOOR   TO    READ.    THINK 
OVER     AND     DISCUSS 


"A  masterpiece.     The  vigor  of  the  work  and  the  knowl- 
edge of  human  interest  it  displays  are  altogether  exceptional. 

— The  Bookman. 

"The  characters  are  irresistible.      The  book  should  be 
read." — St.  James  Gazette. 

"This  book  belongs  to  a  high  order  of  imaginative  fiction, 
based  on  the  essential  realities  of  life." — Athenaeum. 

J.    F.    TAYLOR    (SL    COMPANY 

5  4-    7  EAST  SIXTEENTH   ST.,    NEW   YORK 


The  Colburn   Prize 

By  GABRIELLE  E.  JACttSON 

ILLUSTRATED  BY  MABEL  HUMPHREY 
Ornamental    ClotH    Cover,    $1.OO 


Mrs.  Jackson  needs  no  introduction.  Her  stories  in 
the  St.  Nicholas  magazine  have  won  for  her  a  warm  place 
in  the  hearts  of  the  girls  throughout  the  country.  The 
Colburn  Prize  is  a  charming  story  of  mutual  sacrifice  by  two 
school  friends,  and  is  the  last  and  best  work  of  the  gifted 
author  of  Denise  and  Ned  Toddles  and  Pretty  Polly  Perkins. 
Nine  full-page  illustrations  add  to  the  charm  of  this  ex- 
quisite gift  book  which  Mrs.  Jackson  has  dedicated  to  THE 
SCHOOL  GIRLS  THROUGHOUT  THE  LAND. 


THE  BILLY  STORIES 

By  EVA   LOVE/TT 

Ornamental  ClotH  Cover,   J&l.OO 

Charmingly  Illustrated  with  Ha  If -Tones  and  Line  Cuts 

*      #      * 

Billy  in  the  role  of  Pirate,  Author,  Rough  Rider,  etc., 
will  be  keenly  enjoyed  by  every  boy  and  girl,  and  also  by 
the  older  people  who  read  this  book. 

j\  Humorous  and  most  amusing  set  of  stories 
told  from  tHe  boy's  point  of  view 

J.    F.   TAYLOR    CD.    COMPANY 

5*7    EAST   SIXTEENTH   ST.,    NEW  YORK 


PARLOUS  TIMES 

DAVID  DWIGHT  WELLS 

A      Novel      of     Modern.      Diplomacy 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 

"Her  Ladyship's  Elephant." 

*  * 

Parlous  Times  is  a  society  novel  of  to-day. 
The  scene  is  laid  in  London  in  diplomatic 
circles.  The  romance  was  suggested  by  experi- 
ences of  the  author  while  Second  Secretary  of 
the  United  States  Embassy  at  the  Court  of  St. 
James.  It  is  a  charming  love  story,  with  a 
theme  both  fresh  and  attractive.  The  plot  is 
strong,  and  the  action  of  the  book  goes  with  a 
rush.  Political  conspiracy  and  the  secrets  of 
an  old  tower  of  a  castle  in  Sussex  play  an  im- 
portant part  in  the  novel.  The  story  is  a 
bright  comedy,  full  of  humor,  flashes  of  keen 
wit  and  clever  epigram.  It  will  hold  the 
reader's  attention  from  beginning  to  end. 
Altogether  it  is  a  good  story  exceedingly  well 
told,  and  promises  to  be  Mr.  Wells'  most  suc- 
cessful novel. 

Cloth,  8vo,  $1.50 

J.   F.   TAYLOR    (®L    COMPANY 

5  *  7  EAST  SIXTEENTH  ST.,  NEW  YORft 


THE    GIFT   BOOK    OF    THE   SEASON 

The  Book  of  Sport 

Written  by  the  following  Experts  : 

Col.  John  Jacob  Astor  H.  H.  Hunnewell,  Jr. 

Oliver  H.  P.  Belmont  Eustace  H.  Miles 

Foxhall  Keene  T.  Suffren  Tailer 

John  E.  Cowdin  Edward  La  Montagne,  Sr. 

Miss  Ruth  Underbill  Malcolm  D.  Whitman 

Miss  Beatrix  Hoyt  Holcombe  Ward 

Herbert  M.  Harriman  J.  Parmly  Paret 

Findlay  S.  Douglas  Ralph  N.  Elli» 

H.  L.  Herbert  Albert  C.  Bostwick 

Lawrence  M.  Stockton  Herman  B.  Duryea 

George  Richmond  Fearing,  Jr.  W.  P.  Stephens 
Irving  Cox 


"Unique  and  badly  needed." — CASPAR  WHITNEY. 

"An  American  Badminton.  Superbly  done.  Author- 
itative."— Boston  Herald, 

tf  There  has  never  been  anything  like  this  galaxy  of  stars 
in  the  realms  of  amateur  sporting  literature." 

— New  Tork  Herald. 

"A  noble  book  of  sports.  Written  for  lovers  of  sport  by 
lovers  of  sport.  Only  the  best  of  the  best  has  been  given. 
This  applies  alike  to  articles,  illustrations  and  book-making. 
The  best  possible  book  on  amateur  sport." 

— Evening  Telegraph,  Philadelphia. 

F»r  descriptive  circulars,  sample  pages,  etc.,   address 

J.    F.    TAYLOR    CO.   COMPANY 

5*7    EAST   SIXTEENTH   ST.,    NEW  YORK 


A     000125483 


